


Just Give It One More Try

by CaptainDean13



Series: Two Steps From Salvation [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Avengers Family, BAMF Clint Barton, BAMF Phil Coulson, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, F/M, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Nerd Stiles, Nerd references everywhere, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Protective Avengers, Scars, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Smart Stiles, Stiles Stilinski Has Scars, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Stiles Stilinski, Violence, have I mentioned Scott McCall is a terrible friend?, illusions to suicide, like really and truly terrible, references to past suicide attempts, references to past torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 77,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDean13/pseuds/CaptainDean13
Summary: Clint certainly wasn't expecting this when he decided to be a good Samaritan....





	1. Take It From Someone Who's Been Where You're At

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Guess who the uncle was ;)
> 
> If you didn't read part one - I think this one can stand on it's own, although the first part will probably give you a better idea of where Stiles's head is at. 
> 
> I will be updating the tags as I continue posting. May up the rating too depending on how the story ends up progressing. 
> 
> The story and chapter titles are from Nickelback's [ Lullaby ](https://youtu.be/4OjiOn5s8s8)

Clint catches sight of the man huddled by the front of Phil’s building from a block away. He can see him shivering from here, and flashes back to nights at the circus huddled in with the horses in an attempt to keep warm. Clint stops for a minute to consider and then taps his hearing aide to initiate the link to the comm he knows Phil still has in.

“Phil?” 

A moment passes. “Clint?” Clint can hear the carefully concealed concern lacing Phil’s tone and winces.

“I’m fine, sorry. I just… do you have any food at your old place?”

“You couldn’t wait until you got there to simply check?” Phil’s tone is fondly amused now. “Or waited until after you picked up the papers and made it to the Tower?”

“It’s not for me.”

A sigh whispers across the line. “Clint what did you do?”

“Nothing. Yet. But there is a guy on the landing of your building. Looks like he is having a rough time. It’s snowing Phil. I was just gonna see if I would give him something to eat, maybe a blanket or something. Sorry. I’ll just leave it alone.” Clint feels the familiar sinking that means he has somehow missed another social clue and done something wrong.

“No, Clint, I’m sorry. That is a nice thing to do. I don’t think there is any food left at the apartment, but there should still be coffee from Tony’s last shopping spree. Why don’t you take him some coffee and a blanket. I think there is an old jacket in the closet you can give him if you think it would fit. I am just about done here so how about I go and grab something from Beth’s and meet you at the apartment?”

“Ok that sounds good. Will you get me some curly fries?”

“Of course.” Clint can practically hear Phil’s fond smile and relaxes. 

“Phil?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” 

“Always. I will see you soon.”

Clint taps the aide again to disconnect the link and resumes his walk to the building. Crouching near the man but leaving enough space so he hopefully won’t feel corned, Clint says “Hey buddy?”

There is no response, and Clint reaches out to gently shake the guy’s arm. The reaction he gets this time is startling. The guy scrambles away from Clint, pressing himself even further into the corner and whimpering. 

“Whoa whoa whoa it’s ok! I am not gonna hurt you! It’s okay!” Clint says quickly, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. He takes a closer look and realizes the guy is younger than he thought. A lot younger. He is just a kid by the looks of him and Clint knows all too well what usually causes a reaction like that. 

The kid has stopped scrambling away and is staring at Clint suspiciously, chest heaving. He doesn’t say anything, but looks poised to take off at the slightest provocation. Clint keeps eye contact with the kid as he slowly sinks from his crouch to settle on the sidewalk. The kid loses a little of his defensiveness at the realization that Clint has just put himself at a disadvantage.

“What do you want?” The hoarse whisper is resigned under a show of defiance and Clint’s heart clenches. He can hear Phil berating him now for what he is about to do, but he can’t help himself.

“To help.” Clint answers simply, and holds up his hand to stall the kid before he can protest. “Seriously. I know that sounds creepy and suspicious as fuck, but I really do just want to help. I have been where you are kid and I swear I don’t want anything from you. I am not going to try to do anything to you and won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Something flashes in the kid’s eyes and Clint gives him a moment before continuing. “We have a couple options. My partner is on his way here with food. You can wait here for him, and I can run up and grab you some coffee and a blanket. Or you can come up with me and wait in the warmth. Drink some coffee or whatever we can find and eat something. Or you can tell me to fuck off.”

The kid hasn’t relaxed his posture any, but he is still watching Clint. He studies him another moment before whispering, “If I come inside - I can leave whenever I want?”

“Of course.” Clint replies. He hesitates and then reaches down to his boot with one hand while leaving the other out in a gesture of peace. Clint slowly slips his boot knife out and places it on the ground, sliding it across to the kid’s reach. He lets go of the knife and puts that hand up with the other. “Insurance.” He says to the kid. 

The kid squints at the knife and then at Clint. Reaching out, eyes never leaving Clint, the boy grabs the knife and settles it in his hand. Clint isn’t sure what to make of the fact that the kid seems completely comfortable with the weapon. He can practically hear Phil screaming at him in the back of his head, but for some reason he can’t just leave this kid alone in the snow. 

Keeping his motions slow and evident, Clint stands and offers the kid a hand. “What’s it gonna be?”

The kid doesn’t take the help, but does stand. “I’ll come inside.” He follows Clint into the building and up the stairs. Clint opens the apartment and walks in, leaving the door open for the kid. He goes straight into the kitchen to start up the coffee maker and get a pot going. Once the liquid starts trickling into the pot Clint heads to the linen closet in the hall and grabs two of the spare blankets. He makes his way over to where the kid is hovering halfway between the kitchen and living room. Clint offers the blankets and the kid reaches out hesitantly to take them. The kid doesn’t quite return the smile Clint offers, but his face loses a bit of tenseness.

“Alright I gotta hit the head.” Clint says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the hallway. “Make yourself comfortable. If the coffee finishes you can make yourself a cup - mugs in the cabinet over the machine and sugar is on the table. We don’t have any milk or creamer or anything like that, sorry.” The kid slowly nods and Clint gives him another gentle smile before heading to the bathroom. 

As soon as he closes the door behind him Clint opens the link to Phil. “Phil? Don’t be mad.”

There is a harsh sigh and an indistinguishable mutter before Phil asks resignedly, “What happened?”

“It was a kid Phil. Just a teenager. I couldn’t just leave him out there. I brought him back to the apartment.”

“Jesus. Okay. I am just turning the corner now. Did you warn him I was coming?”

“Yeah I told him you were bringing food.”

“Alright. I will see you in a few.”

“I love you.” Some of Clint’s insecurity must leak into his voice because Phil’s voice is softer when he replies.

“I love you too Clint.”

Clint disconnects the line and flushes the toilet before washing his hands and exiting the bathroom. He heads back into the kitchen to find the kid has abandoned the blankets on the counter in favor of fixing a cup of coffee. The kid backs off when Clint makes his way to the coffee maker, keeping out of arm’s reach. Clint doesn’t comment as he pours himself a cup of coffee and turns to lean against the counter. The kid is cradling the coffee mug in both hands, curled around the warmth. They drink their coffee in silence until Clint hears the faint jingle of keys by the door. The kid hears it too if the tightening of his posture is any indication.

“It’s just my partner with food, remember? He won’t hurt you either.” The kid gives a stiff nod and Clint heads toward the door to meet Phil. 

“Clint?” Phil calls softly as he carries several bags from their favorite diner in through the door. 

“Hey -” Clint is interrupted by the shattering of a mug behind him. Both Clint and Phil spin to face the noise. 

The kid had apparently followed Clint out of the kitchen. He is now standing in the mess of coffee and glass, ignoring it all as he stares at Phil. For the first time his expression is something other than wary. Instead a heartbreaking hope and fear are competing for dominance as he stares past Clint. The kid chokes back a sob and just manages to whisper “Uncle Phil?” before tears begin making their way down his face. 

Clint is frozen in place at the question, but he hears a sudden sharp inhale behind him before Phil responds. “Stiles?” 

The food hits the floor as Phil pushes past Clint toward the kid, who is now sobbing, arms curled around himself. “Uncle Phil, I - I didn’t - I…” The kid chokes out as Phil stops in front of him. Phil wastes no time in pulling the kid into his arms just as the kid’s knees gives out. He clings to Phil, burying his face in Phil’s shoulder.

“Shh. It’s okay, Stiles. I’m here, I’ve got you.” Phil murmurs to the kid, one hand cradling the back of his head as the other arm keeps the boy upright. 

Clint blinks rapidly as he tries to absorb the scene in front of him. He knew Phil had family of course, a brother and a nephew that he had hidden all ties to. Clint is fairly certain he and Fury are the only ones who know about them, although he wouldn’t be surprised to find Natasha in the know. But they were supposed to be living in a small town in California. Whatever had happened to lead to Stiles huddling on Phil’s doorstep, Clint knew it couldn’t be good. 

The kid’s sobs are starting to taper off, though he doesn’t appear to be letting go of Phil anytime soon. Clint quietly gathers up the bags Phil had dropped and takes them to the table before heading into the kitchen to put the kettle on. He is fairly sure they still have some of Bruce’s calming tea in the cabinet, and it looks like both Phil and the kid could use some. Clint can hear Phil trying to coax Stiles into moving into the living room. It sounds like he is making slow progress, the kid unwilling to release Phil long enough to walk to the couch but moving when Phil does. 

Clint catches the kettle just as it starts to whistle, pouring the water into two mugs and adding diffusers full of Bruce’s carefully mixed tea. He adds the last of the coffee to his mug and carries all three to the living room where Phil has gotten Stiles settled on the sofa. Well, Phil is on the sofa anyway. The kid looks like he is more huddled on Phil’s lap than on the couch. It should look ridiculous - the teen is nearly grown after all - but instead it just breaks Clint’s heart to see the kid curl himself into a tiny shivering lump. 

After placing the mugs on the coffee table, Clint backtracks to the kitchen to grab the blankets he offered the kid earlier. He pauses when he reaches the couch again and raises a questioning eyebrow at Phil. Phil nods and Clint unfolds one of the blankets before gently wrapping it around the shaking kid. Stiles startles and Phil quickly soothes him. Clint hesitates now that he has run out of things to do. Phil catches his eye and nods to the armchair next to the couch. Clint nods and quietly settles in the chair with his mug. 

It takes Phil quite a while to coax the kid into sitting back enough to accept the mug of tea. He refuses to let go of Phil, one hand taking the mug while the other clutches Phil’s suit jacket. Stiles doesn’t say anything, drinking his tea while tears continue to track down his cheeks. Clint can see the tea start to work as the kid slowly relaxes into the couch and Phil. He appears to be nearly asleep when he whispers, “Don’t tell anyone Uncle Phil.” 

Phil stares down at his nephew. “Your dad - “

The kid lurches up to turn huge eyes on Phil. “No! Please Uncle Phil. You can’t. Please.” 

Phil hushes the kid, murmuring reassurances as he guides his head back to his shoulder. “Okay Stiles, I won’t call him now. We can talk about it later, alright? Just calm down. Everything will be alright.” Stiles slumps in relief, melting back into Phil. 

A few minutes later he is asleep. Phil glances over at Clint and asks quietly, “Can you help me get him to the guest room? We’ll stay here tonight.” 

Clint nods and moves to the couch. He leans down and scoops the kid into his arms, heart sinking at how easy it is to do so. Stiles curls toward Clint’s heat, burrowing his face into the hollow of Clint’s neck. Clint swallows thickly and cradles the kid more securely as he takes him into the guest bedroom. Phil follows him through and pulls the covers off the bed so Clint can put the kid down. Phil tugs the comforter back up over Stiles as Clint retrieves the second blanket from the living room and returns to add it to the pile over the kid. Clint flips the switch on the small desk light as they make their way out of the room, leaving the warm glow to comfort Stiles when he wakes. 

Phil starts pacing as soon as they are back in the main living space. Clint eyes him for a moment and then leaves him to it as he goes to collect Phil’s untouched tea. He pops it in the microwave to reheat, popping the door just before the cycle finishes to avoid the shrill alert tone. Clint places the freshly steaming tea on the couch before moving to intercept Phil’s path. Phil continues walking, running full into Clint and wrapping his arms around him. Clint wraps his arms around Phil in return and waits as he feels Phil start to shake. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Phil mutters, grinding his forehead against Clint’s shoulder. “I don’t know what the hell is going on Clint.”

Clint gently tugs Phil over to the couch with him and presses the mug into his hands. “Drink your tea. You promised you wouldn’t call his dad so we need to wait until he wakes up to get some answers.” 

“I don’t like this.”

“I know. But I think for now you need to just wait and then talk to your nephew, okay? He came to you for a reason. You need to show you are on his side, which means honoring his wishes and keeping mum about his whereabouts.”

“Why wouldn’t Noah call me? You saw Stiles Clint. There is no way he just hopped on a plane and ended up here. He has to have been gone for awhile and I thought he was still safe in Beacon Hills.”

“I don’t know. We will figure it out in the morning okay?” 

Phil nods and sips the tea as Clint sits next to him, running his hand up and down Phil’s arm. Eventually Phil’s body eases as he gives into the mild sedative effects of the tea. Clint sighs and tips his head back against the couch. Minutes later he drifts off as well.


	2. I'm Reachin' Out To Let You Know That You're Not Alone

The scream rips Phil into consciousness. It is a scream of absolute terror and hopelessness. Phil launches himself off the couch and down the hall to the guest bedroom, Clint scrambling to follow. He throws open the door to find Stiles fighting under the many layers he and Clint added to the bed, still screaming. Phil and Clint quickly untangle Stiles and as soon as he is free Phil wraps the boy in his arms and calms his struggling. He gently rocks his nephew as he soothes him until Stiles’s screams turn to heaving sobs. Clint is perched near the bed watching solemnly. They let Stiles calm down, not speaking aside from Phil’s quiet reassurances. 

Once Stiles has been reduced to quietly hitching breathes in Phil’s arms, Phil reaches out and grabs the kleenex box of the side table. He offers the box to Stiles and his nephew grabs a handful and swabs at his face before slowly sitting up. Phil studies him quietly, trying to figure out how his brilliant, sunny, hyper nephew had been cut down to the haunted young man in front of him. 

Stiles takes a deep breath and then looks up to meet Phil’s gaze. “Sorry.” He murmurs before dropping his eyes to stare at his hands twisting the kleenex. 

Phil reaches out a hand to cover and still Stiles’s. “There is nothing to apologize for.” He assures Stiles. His nephew shrugs and Phil sighs. “Do you think you can sleep anymore?” Stiles shakes his head. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Phil shrugs. “Let’s go make some coffee.”

Stiles darts a glance at him and then to Clint before once more staring at his lap. “You don’t need to stay up. You should go back to sleep. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” 

Phil leans forward and uses one hand to gently raise Stiles’s head. He waits until Stiles meets his eyes and says firmly, “You are not an inconvenience. You are my nephew. I love you and want to help in any way I can. Do you understand?” He watches as Stiles’s eyes fill once more and he aches at the blatant disbelief and shy hope and awe that flash through his expression. Phil drags the kid into his arms again, hugging him hard before urging him up and out of the bed. 

Clint is not in the room anymore, and they find him in the kitchen starting the coffee maker. Clint turns as they enter and smiles softly at Stiles. “Hey,” he says quietly, “we didn’t really get introduced earlier. I’m Clint.”

Stiles nods and replies, “Stiles.” 

“It is nice to meet you, Stiles. I have heard a lot about you from Phil.” Clint gives the kid another smile and then sobers. “Stiles, are you alright with me being here? I want you to be comfortable and if you’d be more comfortable with just you and Phil that is fine.”

Stiles’s head snaps up and he looks almost scared. “I don’t - you can’t - I am not going to make you leave your home. I can go - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -” Stiles is stammering, growing frantic and Phil needs to know what the fuck has happened to his nephew. 

Clint, meanwhile, is trying to calm the teen. “Whoa, whoa, that is not what I meant. Stiles, trust me you aren’t throwing me out or anything. I don’t even live here usually. I have plenty of places to go if need be. Phil and I just want you to feel safe, whatever that means, okay?” 

Now Stiles is staring at Clint in confusion. “But… I don’t understand. Why would you - “ He cuts himself off, but Phil can guess where the rest of that sentence was going.

So can Clint. His expression is unbelievably gentle as he leans down to catch the kid’s eye. “Because everyone deserves to feel safe, kid.”

Stiles coughs a laugh that is more of a sob. “I haven’t been safe in a long time. Haven’t been a kid for about the same amount of time.” He scrubs a fist across his eyes and raises his head to look at Clint. “You can stay here. I don’t mind. If Uncle Phil trusts you, you must be worth it.”

Phil is unbearably relieved that whatever has happened to Stiles, he still trusts Phil. The coffee maker chimes and Clint turns back to split the liquid between three mugs. He pushes the one with the cartoon dinosaur on it across the counter to Stiles with a grin and then hands Phil his normal mug. Phil watches as Stiles reads the pun scrawled across the mug under the dinosaur and a small smile tilts Stiles’s lips. It is the first smile Phil has seen since he arrived home to find his nephew in his apartment and he grins at Clint over the top of Stile’s head, trying to convey his gratitude with a look alone. Clint smiles shyly into his own mug and Phil shakes his head at the two broken men that mean so much to him. Phil leans over and presses a kiss to Stiles’s temple, ignoring the hitched breath as he does so, before moving past him to sit at the table. 

Clint and Stiles both join him there, the three of them quietly sipping their coffee. Phil lets Stiles get through about half his cup before he address the most immediate concerns. 

“Stiles.” He says, reaching over to take his nephew’s hand. “Are you hurt in any way?” 

Stiles looks over at Phil and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t need medical attention or anything like that.” 

Phil nods, trusting that Stiles is telling him the truth. He thinks he knows the answer to the next question but needs to ask. “Does you father know where you are?”

“No.” Stiles whispers.

“Does he know you are safe?”

Stiles shakes his head.

“Stiles how did you get here?”

“Um, I drove for part of it. Roscoe died part way and I, uh, walked the rest?”

“Where did the jeep die?”

“Um, Nevada somewhere.” Stiles’s answer is just above a breath. Phil feels like he has been sucker punched.

“You walked here from Nevada?” He asks, shocked. Stiles nods. “Why didn’t you call me?” Phil just barely refrains from demanding, knowing he needs to tread carefully for now. He knows he can’t ask about why Stiles left without possibly sending his nephew into a panic attack, which is the last thing they need. Clint was right last night - Phil needed to be there for Stiles right now. No matter how much he wanted to call up his brother and tear him a new one for letting Stiles end up this way.

Stiles merely shrugs. “I didn’t actually know I was coming here at first. I just - I needed - I had to get away. I just made my way across the country. I realized I was coming here when I got to New York. I almost didn’t come.” He confesses.

Phil’s heart stutters, and he squeezes his nephew’s hand. “I am glad you did.”

“Really?” Stiles asks hesitantly.

“Yes.” 

Stiles raises his head to search Phil’s face. Phil keeps his expression open, conveying all his relief that Stiles trusted him and turned to him. Stiles can evidently read it as his shoulders slump in relief. “Thank you.” He whispers.

Phil squeezes his hand again and checks the time. He looks back at Stiles. “Stiles, how would you feel about showering and getting cleaned up? Then we could go get breakfast somewhere?” 

Stiles nods. “That would be ok.” He hesitates, looking like he wants to say more, but stays silent.

“Stiles?” Phil prompts.

The teen blushes as he fiddles with the mug in front of him. When he speaks it is so low that Phil barely catches it. “I don’t have any other clothes.”

Closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to manage his rampaging emotions, Phil takes a slow breathe and releases it. Opening his eyes again he runs his hand through Stiles’s hair affectionately, resolutely ignoring the shiver that the action produces from his nephew. “I am sure we can scrounge up something for you until we can get you some things of your own.”

Stiles dares to shoot a small smile at him. “Thanks Uncle Phil.” 

Clint stands and stretches. “Come on kid, I’ll show you where everything is.” Phil is relieved when Stiles follows Clint out of the room with only a moment’s hesitation. 

As soon as they are out of the room, Phil buries his face in his hands and takes several shuddering breaths. He hears the shower turn on and then Clint’s soft footsteps returning. Clint comes up behind him and drops his hands onto Phil’s shoulders, squeezing gently. Phil rubs his face roughly and then shoves one hand through his hair before dropping his head back to rest on Clint’s stomach. 

“I gave Stiles some things we still had here to change into. They are going to be too big but should work until we can get him something else.” Clint pauses for a moment and Phil lifts a hand to lay over Clint’s on his shoulder. Clint huffs a breath and then continues. “Now is not the time to get into this, but Phil, you can see that he has been through hell right? I don’t know what happened, but there are a lot of issues I can spot. Things we need to adress. Are you going to tell him about you? About me? The avengers? You know we can’t stay here long as is and from everything you have told me about the kid he is going to figure it out soon enough on his own.”

“I know. I plan on telling him at breakfast and seeing if he is alright going to the Tower. If not I guess we will just have someone send some stuff here until Stiles is comfortable.” Clint nods and leans down to brush a kiss against Phil’s forehead. 

“We can help him. Especially if he agrees to go to the Tower with us.” Clint murmurs.

“I am going to help him.” Phil asserts. “Whatever it takes.” He blows out a breath. “Jesus Clint I just keep thinking about what might have happened if you hadn’t swung by to get the papers, if you hadn’t stopped to help him, if he had run from you….”

“But it didn’t happen, Phil. I know, trust me, I know, but you can’t focus on the what ifs. We have plenty of actual problems to deal with right now. We don’t need to add more.”

Phil nods. He hears the shower shut off and stands up. “We should go change as well. I don’t even know what clothes I still have here.”

Clint snorts. “Not many. You might have to go outside in jeans.”

Phil shakes his head fondly. “I think I can handle that for one day.”


	3. And If You Can't Tell, I'm Scared As Hell

Stiles lets the scalding water pound down on him for another minute before reluctantly shutting it off and stepping out of the shower. He grabs the towel off the rack and quickly dries off. Running a hand over his chin, Stiles considers shaving but eyes his shaking hands and decides to leave the scruff. He avoids the mirror with ease of long practice and sorts through the clothes Clint had handed him before showing him to the bathroom. It is a bit of a random assortment, but Stiles finds a pair of obviously well-loved sweatpants that he knots tightly at his waist and a henley that looks like it has never been worn. Stiles is thrilled Clint gave him a long sleeve option. He knows he will have to come clean to his uncle eventually, but he just can’t do it yet. Stiles also throws on the taco cat shirt he finds in the pile and rubs the towel over his unruly hair before he wanders out to find Clint and his uncle.

Stiles finds them in the kitchen, his uncle leaning against the counter and Clint… perched on top of the refrigerator? He quirks his head but before he can ask Clint catches sight of him and clambers down. “Ready to go tacocat?” He asks Stiles with a grin.

“Tacocat?” Uncle Phil asks as he turns to face Stiles.

“It’s a palindrome.” Stiles shrugs, looking down at where his toes are curling on the tile floor. 

“So it is.” Stiles can hear the fond note in Uncle Phil’s voice.

“I left my clothes folded in the bathroom.” Stiles says. “Wasn’t sure where I should put them.”

“That’s fine, we can deal with them later. Let’s go get some food.” Uncle Phil replies, guiding Stiles out of the kitchen with a hand on his shoulder. 

Stiles tries to suppress a shudder at the touch. He can’t remember the last time he was touched when it wasn’t someone hurting him. But Uncle Phil keeps doing it - just casual, loving gestures. Stiles has to hold back tears every time. He wants this, wants the contact, but he isn’t sure he can stay here, if Uncle Phil will let him… especially when he finds out what Stiles did. And if Stiles lets himself have this and then has it ripped away it might just be the final straw. So he lets Uncle Phil gets close, soaks up the proximity, but refuses to reach out first, refuses to put himself out there.

They reach the front door and Stiles sets down the worn out converse he has been carrying since the bathroom. Uncle Phil stops him when he goes to step in.

“Where are your socks?”

Stiles flushes. “I didn’t want to put the old ones back on. I’ll be fine with no socks.”

“But why would you…” Uncle Phil trails off and rolls his eyes before he turns to Clint. “Clint did you not give Stiles socks?”

Clint looks up from lacing his boots. “Uh… oops?”

Uncle Phil shakes his head and heads toward the bedroom. Taking advantage of his absence, Stiles pulls the knife Clint had given him from the waist of the sweats. He offers it back to the man. “Uh, here. You probably want this back.”

Clint looks up again but makes no move to take the knife. “Does it make you feel safer?” He asks in a voice too low to carry to the bedroom. Stiles nods hesitantly. “Then you hold onto it a little while longer.”

“Thank you.” Stiles whispers, moving to put the knife back in his waistband. 

“Whoa, what are you doing? Is that where you had that thing before? You are going to cut yourself and that is going to be terrible a) because you will be bleeding and like, ow, and b) because Phil will definitely kill me if that happens. Here,” Clint rifles through the coat closet before pulling an ankle sheath out and handing it to Stiles. Stiles accepts the sheath and bends to put it on, slipping the knife in and letting his sweats fall to cover it just before Uncle Phil returns with socks.

“Sorry, had to find a pair without a pair of holes.” Uncle Phil explains with a mock glare at Clint, who raises his hands innocently. Stiles smiles faintly and pulls the socks on before jamming his feet in his shoes. Uncle Phil pulls a coat from the closet and hands it to Stiles before grabbing his own. Stiles follows his uncle and Clint out of the apartment and down the street.

They end up at a place called Beth’s. It’s a tiny little diner, empty at this time in the morning, and the three of them weave their way through the the corner booth. 

A kind looking woman makes her way towards their table with a pot of coffee. She smiles warmly at them. “Clint, Phil, lovely to see you as always. And who is this handsome young man?” 

Stiles drops his eyes to the table.

“Beth this is my nephew Stiles.” Uncle Phil answers for him.

“It is wonderful to meet you Stiles.” Beth replies and Stiles manages to lift his head and meet her gentle eyes.

“You too.” He says quietly.

“What can I get you, honey?” She asks, and Stiles quickly looks for a menu.

Beth tuts at him causing Stiles to blink at her in surprise. “Forget the menu, honey. Just tell me what you want. Chances are I have the ingredients in the back. If I don’t I’ll make you something close and get the ingredients for next time. You’ll be back if you are staying with these two.”

“Um, ok. Can I have some pancakes maybe? And some fruit if you have any?” Stiles shyly requests.

“Easy. Pancakes and fruit coming right up. You boys want your usual I suppose?” Beth heads back to the kitchen after Clint and Uncle Phil agree.

Stiles wraps his hands around his mug and taps his fingers restlessly against the ceramic. He stills as Uncle Phil reaches over to place a hand on his forearm. 

“What is it Stiles?”

Stiles takes a deep breath and gathers his nerve before looking at his uncle. “What she said - I mean, would it be alright - I understand if it’s not, why would you want - but maybe -” Stiles cuts his rambling off and forces the question out. “Could I stay with you for awhile?”

Uncle Phil squeezes his forearm. “Of course you can. You can stay as long as you want. I would never turn you away, Stiles.” 

“Thank you, Uncle Phil.” Stiles croakes. His view of his uncle blurs as his eyes fill. Stiles wipes them roughly with a sleeve, praying that is actually true. Clint and Uncle Phil wait until he has collected himself before speaking again. 

“On that note, though, there is something we need to tell you.” Uncle Phil says calmly.

Stiles feels a flare of his innate snarkiness and for the first time in awhile feels safe enough to let it out a little. “You’re gay?” He asks his uncle, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Clint grins while Uncle Phil rolls his eyes. “Well yes, although I am fairly certain that particular cat is already a time zone away from the bag it escaped from.” Stiles’s smirk morphs into a real smile at that. “But what I was going to say is that when Clint said earlier that he doesn’t live in the apartment often, what he meant was that neither of us do. I still own the apartment but we normally live elsewhere. What I am about to tell you is not widely available knowledge, Stiles, and it needs to stay that way, okay? I need your word on this.”

“Of course.” Stiles replies immediately, wondering what his uncle would need to keep this secret. Then again, Stiles has plenty of secrets no one knows about. Stiles glances around at their somewhat public surroundings and tentatively asks, “But Uncle Phil aren’t we a little… public right now to be telling secrets?”

Uncle Phil smiles. “Don’t worry. Beth was a SHIELD agent for years. She has the clearance to know and she keeps this place free of bugs and surveillance.”

“SHIELD… Uncle Phil are you a spy? Wait -” Stiles turns to stare at Clint, mind rapidly making connections. “Clint… Clint Barton? As in Hawkeye?”

Clint stares. “I didn’t think that info was out there.” Stiles shrugs and Clint nods slowly. “Yes, I am Hawkeye. And Phil isn’t just a spy… he is the Avenger’s liaison.”

Stiles’s rapid mental panic is interrupted by the arrival of their food. It’s been so long since Stiles has truly felt hungry that he has nearly forgotten the sensation. The pancakes in front of him, however, have his mouth watering and his stomach growling. Uncle Phil has what looks like a healthy egg white omelette loaded with vegetables while Clint has…

“Are those curly fries?” Stiles asks in poorly disguised envy.

“Smothered in cheese and bacon and chile.” Clint nods enthusiastically. “Beth makes the best curly fries.”

“Would you like some as well, honey?” Beth, who hasn’t yet left the table, asks.

Stiles stares longingly at the fries for a moment before shaking his head and looking back at his own food. “ No, thank you. This is more than enough. The pancakes look delicious.” 

Beth tsks at him. “That would be more believable if I hadn’t just seen the way you were looking at those fries.” She teases him gently. “How about I bring you a small plate of fries? Clint will have no problem finishing off whatever you can’t eat if that is your concern.”

Clint nods happily around a mouthful of fries. Stiles smiles at Beth and nods his consent. She winks and heads back to the kitchen.

“So… Avengers?” Stiles asks hesitantly before taking a bite of his pancakes.

Uncle Phil nods. “As Clint said, I am the Avengers liaison. Clint and I live in Stark Tower along with the others. We have plenty of room for you there.”

Stiles fiddles with his fork, chasing a blueberry across the plate. “I didn’t know. I can go someplace else, I shouldn’t have bothered you in the first place. You don’t have to let me stay.”

“Stiles.” Uncle Phil stays silent until Stiles forces himself to meet his uncle’s eyes. “What part of that made you feel unwelcome?”

Stiles shrugs one shoulder, jabbing the blueberry he has been chasing and eating it to avoid answering. Uncle Phil knows all his tricks, however, and merely watches Stiles calmly. Finally Stiles caves under the scrutiny and says quietly, “It’s Stark Tower. Home of the Avengers. A technological marvel. Why would anyone want someone like me there?”

“Because I want you there.” Uncle Phil answers steadily. “Clint and my floor is ours to do with as we wish and we want you to stay. No one is going to have any objections. And if Tony tries to say anything, I will just taze him into the carpet again.”

When Stiles doesn’t react, his uncle reaches out to gently lift his face. “Trust me on this.” He says softly. “If you don’t want to stay at the tower we will move back to the apartment, but please don’t think you are unworthy of living in the tower somehow.” Uncle Phil’s face is open and earnest, his eyes gentle.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” Stiles chokes out, eyes filling again.

“Doesn’t matter.” Clint is the one who answers, taking Stiles by surprise. Stiles turns to look at him through the tears. “All of us have done things we aren’t proud of. We are all trying to be better. You can have a home with us if you want. You don’t have to tell us your secrets, but we will listen if you want to and we will not judge. It will have no impact on our offer. Clint’s voice is serious and calm. Stiles believes he is telling the truth.

Stiles lets out a sob before answering. “I want to… I need to, it’s eating me up inside.” He confesses. “But I just… I can’t. Not yet. I just can’t.”

Clint reaches out, broadcasting his intent, and pulls Stiles into a hug. Stiles startles at the touch even after anticipating it, but then relaxes into Clint’s strong hold. “Whenever you’re ready.” Clint whispers and tightens his hold for a moment before pulling back to give Stiles room to blow his nose and wipe his eyes. Clint stays close, though, his warmth comforting Stiles even without the touch.

Stiles gets himself under control and mutters, “I swear I haven’t cried in years and now I can’t stop.”

“Well that’s your problem.” Clint says matter of factly. “Crying is a healthy form of expression. I cried the other day because of a really cute dog I passed on the street.”

This startles a laugh out of Stiles. It is rusty with disuse and feels somewhat unnatural but also freeing. Stiles looks up to see his uncle watching the two of them, relief not quite hidden behind the amusement. Stiles smiles a little more confidently at his uncle and cuts another bite of pancake. 

Then Beth returns carrying the most magnificent plate of fries Stiles has ever seen. They have everything Clint’s had, but with a side of what appears to be sour cream. She puts the plate next to Stiles with a smile. “Clint likes his hot enough to melt your face. I added some sour cream there to cut the burn in case you actually would like to taste your food the next few days.”

Stiles ignores Clint’s outraged cries in favor of trying the fries. They are unbelievable. Hot as hell, yes, but the spice adds something that Stiles can’t describe. He stares at the plate in astonishment before digging back in. Clint must have caught the look on his face because he says, “They are incredible, aren’t they? Beth gets the chile from New Mexico just for me. Tried something similar when I was out there for a job once and got hooked. Decided to try it with curly fries because everything is better with curly fries.”

Stiles nods in agreement and keeps eating. His lack of consistent meals catches up to him, however, and he is only able to eat half the fries in addition to about a quarter of the pancakes and fruit. Clint happily finishes off the remainder while Uncle Phil makes comments about his hollow leg. Stiles is content to merely sit and listen, but as Clint gets closer to finishing, he finally speaks.

“Hey Uncle Phil? As long as the others who live in the tower are okay with it… I would like to stay with you. I want you to ask them though.”

“If it will make you feel better I will ask, but no one is going to mind. I promise, Stiles.” Uncle Phil answers. 

“Please.” Stiles asks softly. “I just… I can’t stay somewhere else I am not wanted.” 

He can see that his uncle wants to ask, but is grateful when he refrains for the moment. Uncle Phil and Clint stand and Stiles follows. His uncle pulls out his wallet and Stiles freezes, remembering his nearly exhausted funds. He pulls the last of his cash from his pocket and offers it to his uncle, ashamed. 

“Sorry, Uncle Phil.” He mutters. “This is all I have left. I know it doesn’t cover it, but…”

Uncle Phil carefully folds Stiles’s hand back over the money. “I don’t want your money Stiles. I am happy to provide for you, okay?”

“But - you shouldn’t have to pay for me. I am not trying to -”

“Stiles,” his uncle interrupts. “I know. I have more money than I know what to do with… especially considering Tony provides us free lodging and most of our groceries and things like that. I like to spend it on things I care about, and you, Stiles, are definitely something I care about. If it bothers you to not contribute, I am sure we can work something out later.”

Stiles still feels guilty about letting his uncle cover everything, but he acquiesces and puts his money back in his pocket. Clint, after again broadcasting his intent, throws an arm over Stiles’s shoulder and begins to pull him out of the restaurant. “Bye Beth!” He hollars over his shoulder before turning back to whisper conspiratorially, “Ready to meet the Avengers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tacocat shirt ](https://www.etsy.com/listing/524303389/taco-cat-tacocat-funny-humor-tacos-chips?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=taco%20cat&ref=sr_gallery-1-10) :)
> 
> [ Hatch green chile ](https://www.hatch-green-chile.com) is life changing. Everything is better with it. 
> 
> Also I realize that my Clint here is sort of a mashup of comic book Clint and MCU Clint, but I think both have aspects that would be really good for Stiles and I didn't want to pick so I used both ;)


	4. Please Let Me Take You, Out Of The Darkness And Into The Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. The response this story is getting is simply incredible. Thank you all so much for your support. Hearing your excitement for the story makes me even more excited to write it. You all are the best.
> 
> On to the slightly less fun bit-  
> Disclaimer!!
> 
> I am in no way, shape or form qualified to discuss abusive relationships and healthy recovery of them, nor the signs of such a relationship or how to interact with a victim or any of that. This is a work of fiction and as such I took some creative liberties and used my own discretion. My intent is not to inform, but to entertain. I hope no one is offended by any representations herein. 
> 
> With that said... let's meet the Avengers!

Given the still early hour, they decide to wander around Central Park for awhile before heading to the tower. Clint still has his arm around Stiles’s shoulder and Phil’s heart clenches at the way his nephew seems to be both a second away from crawling out of his own skin and terrified of moving and losing the contact. Luckily, Clint seems to register this as well and makes sure to stay close enough to Stiles to let the teen decide when he is done with the contact.

Stiles eventually does when he spots a coffee cart on the side of the path. He pulls away from Clint to go investigate and Phil steps closer and laces his fingers through Clint’s. “Thank you.” He says lowly, watching as Stiles once again pulls out his small crumple of cash and begins to carefully count it. Phil is doing his best to ignore what his nephew had said earlier about it being everything he had left.

Clint tightens his grasp on Phil’s hand before he replies. “ He is important to you.” He says simply. “And even if he wasn’t…” Clint trails off, watching Stiles make his way back toward them. 

“I know - there is just something about him isn’t there? I hope we can get him back to the healthy, happy, ridiculous kid I remember. I know he will never be the same - whatever has happened is too much to just sweep away - but I hope we can get him to let the core of who he is show again. God, I’ve never seen anyone quite like him.” Phil stops talking as Stiles comes back into range of the low murmurs they have been using. He raises an eyebrow at his nephew, who has stopped in front of them with a determined expression.

“Do you guys want something? My treat.” Stiles asks, aiming for confident and falling somewhere closer to desperate. Recognizing - and hating - Stiles’s need to prove himself somehow, Phil accepts the offer, as does Clint. They follow his nephew back to the cart where Phil orders an herbal tea and Clint a hot chocolate. Phil sees Stiles glance at the prices again before ordering himself a large black coffee. It takes nearly the rest of Stiles’s cash, but the relief on Stiles’s face when he and Clint accept their cups from the vendor is worth the uneasiness Phil feels at the fact.

They nurse their drinks as they make their way out of the park. It is late enough that they have a hard time finding a taxi amongst the rush hour commuters. They finally snag one and pile in the backseat before Phil gives their destination to the driver. 

Stiles seems to draw further into himself the closer they get to the tower. “Hey.” Phil says, placing a hand on Stiles’s knee. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want remember? We can go back to the apartment.”

“No, it’s okay. I can do this.” Stiles replies, leaning into Phil’s side. They are quiet for the rest of the ride.

When they arrive at the tower, Clint and Stiles climb out and Phil follows quickly after paying the driver. Clint is already leading Stiles into the building, and Phil moves to catch up, nodding a greeting to the receptionist at the desk as they make their way to the private elevator reserved for the Avengers. Stiles watches curiously as Clint puts his hand on the scanner located where the button would normally be. 

“We will get you added to the system later today.” Phil explains as they climb into the elevator. “This is the only elevator with access to the Avengers’ floors.”

“After you ask the others, right?”

Phil turns Stiles to face him with a hand on each shoulder. “I promise we will ask them. You will be there so you will know it happened and that you are welcome here.” His nephew nods and then jumps as a cool, British voice fills the elevator.

“Good morning Agent Coulson, Agent Barton.”

“Good morning JARVIS.” Phil replies. He sees Stiles’s eyes widen.

“JARVIS? Mr. Stark’s AI?” Stiles asks, voice slightly awed.

“Indeed.” JARVIS sounds bemused. Not many outside of the Avengers even know that Tony has an AI, let alone his name. Stiles apparently has a lot of information he shouldn’t have.

“Wait.” Stiles says before Phil can ask. His brow furrows. “You said Agent _Coulson_ and Agent Barton.” His nephew turns to him. “Why did JARVIS call you Coulson? I mean I assume he was talking to you…” Stiles trails off.

“He was.” Phil assures him. “I changed my name a long time ago to protect you and your dad.” He explains.

“Oh.” Stiles breathes, face clearing. “I guess that makes sense with the whole spy thing.”

“Agent Coulson, if I may inquire?” JARVIS takes advantage of the lull in the conversation.

“Right, I apologize JARVIS. This is my nephew Stiles Stilinski.” Phil replies. “He will be staying with Clint and I… pending the approval of the other Avengers.” Phil concludes, cutting off the protest he can see Stiles attempting.

“A pleasure, Mr. Stilinski.” JARVIS says kindly.

“Nice to meet you too JARVIS. But, um, I’d rather you just call me Stiles if that’s acceptable to you.” Stiles responds hesitantly.

There is a pause before the AI replies, electronic voice as compassionate as Phil has ever heard. “It would be an honor, Stiles.” JARVIS is quiet for a moment before he continues. “Agent Coulson, if I may, you mentioned gaining the approval of the other Avengers in regards to Stiles’s stay here. All the relevant parties are currently in the tower, although Miss Potts has a meeting to attend soon. Would you like me to gather them for you?”

Phil looks at Stiles. “It is up to you.” He watches fear and resignation flash across his nephew’s face before it settles into a blank mask.

“Best to do it now. Make sure it’s fine.” Stiles answers.

Phil exchanges a concerned glance with Clint as JARVIS redirects them to the common floor. They arrive to find Steve pulling ingredients from the fridge and Bucky eyeing the growing pile with amusement from his seat at the counter.

“I am not sure we have a pan big enough for all of that, Cap.” Clint laughs, gaining the attention of the two supersoldiers. Phil can feel Stiles tense under the scrutiny and reaches out to put a grounding hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“Steve, Bucky - this is my nephew Stiles.” Phil explains. “Stiles, this is Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.” Bucky nods from his seat while Steve gives Stiles one of his genuine, heartfelt smiles and comes over to shake his hand.

“It’s great to meet you Stiles.” Steve says.

Stiles manages to return the handshake but stares down at his shoes instead of looking at Steve. “Really, it is an honor to meet you, sir.” Stiles’s voice is back to the insecure, barely audible tone he’s slowly been losing as he relaxed around Phil and Clint. Steve gives Stiles a concerned look and sends Phil a questioning glance. Phil shakes his head -now is not the time - and notices that Bucky is now leaning forward in his chair, head tilted as he studies the teen.

Steve turns back to Stiles and says, “You can call me Steve. Sir just takes me straight back to the army.”

Stiles smiles hesitantly and nods. Steve heads back to the pile of food he was amassing. “You fellas hungry? I am making Buck and I something - easy enough to add a few more helpings.”

“No thank you, Steve. We already ate.” Phil declines, hearing the elevator arrive behind him. It is Pepper, Bruce and Sam. Phil thanks heaven - or more likely JARVIS - that Stiles is meeting them before Tony and Natasha. Tony is a lot to handle even when you know him and Nat… well Nat is just scary sometimes.

If the three are surprised by a new facem they cover well. Pepper, already dressed for her day as CEO, smiles warmly and strides over to kiss Phil’s cheek in greeting. He returns the gesture and then introduces Stiles. Pepper and Sam offer handshakes which Stiles returns, but just as with Steve he can’t seem to make eye contact with any of them. Phil can feel the concern from his team and hopes they trust his judgement enough to hold off until Phil can talk to them without Stiles.

Natasha is the next to arrive. She merely offers a “nice to meet you”, but Phil can see the softening of her eyes. Nat has always had a soft spot for children in bad situations and Stiles is so obviously traumatized that Phil would put money on him gaining a fierce new protector. 

Tony is the last to arrive. “Agent!” He says loudly as he comes out of the elevator. “Why on Earth are you calling a house meeting at this time? Especially after being out all night?”

Phil feels Stiles flinch and sink back, putting Phil between him and Tony. Phil reaches back to wrap a reassuring hand around Stiles’s wrist and out of the corner of his eye sees Clint drape his arm across Stiles’s shoulders. “Tony, this is my nephew Stiles. Stiles this is Tony Stark.”

Tony falters when he sees Stiles half hiding behind Phil. His voice is noticeably lower and calmer when he says, “Nice to meet you, kid. Is that why you called us here, Agent?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Phil replies. He gestures for everyone to gather around the table. Once everyone is seated he continues. “Stiles is going to stay with Clint and I for awhile. He wanted to make sure it was alright with all of you that he stay here in the tower. If it is not we can move back into my place.”

The others exchange surprised glances. “It is fine with me.” Steve answers first. “It was considerate of you to ask, Stiles. Guys?” A round of nods and affirmations follow. 

“Thank you.” Stiles says quietly. “Um, Uncle Phil? You said all the others live here… what about Thor?”

“Ah,” Phil replied, glancing around the table. “Well Thor does have a floor here, and we usually see him at least once a week, but he spends most of his time with Dr. Foster or back on Asgard. We can ask him when he is here next, alright?”

“I wouldn’t worry about Thor.” Sam speaks up. “He definitely won’t mind.”

Stiles nods.

Phil stands and Clint and Stiles follow suit. “How about we show you our floor first? Then we can do the ground tour later.” Phil asks. Stiles nods and follows Clint back to the elevator. Phil follows them after quickly signaling for the others to wait there, he would be back.

Phil waits until they are almost to their floor before saying, “Oh no. I forgot I needed to discuss something with Pepper. JARVIS, has she left for her meeting yet?”

“No, Agent Coulson, Miss Potts is still on the common floor.” The AI returns.

“Stiles would you be alright hanging out on our floor with Clint for a bit while I go talk to Pepper? I won’t be long, I promise.”

“Oh. No that’s fine, Uncle Phil. Take whatever time you need. I didn’t mean to disrupt -”

“Stiles.” Phil interrupts calmly. “I will say it as often as you need to hear it - I am glad you are here. You are not a burden or a disruption or anything like that, okay?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. We’ll be okay.” Phil gives Stiles a hug and Clint ushers Stiles off the elevator with a quick look at Phil. Phil nods. He will fill Clint in later.

The elevator doors close behind them and Phil sighs. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall, wishing he knew what was going on. JARVIS lets him be, staying quiet until they returned to the common level. He enters to find all of the others still there, although they have spread out some. Steve is back in the kitchen and Bucky is settled at the counter again, though he is now helping to chop the vegetables Steve had pulled out. Tony is attempting to sweet talk the coffee maker into going faster. They all break off their conversations when Phil appears. 

“Is that really your nephew, Agent?” Tony caves first.

Phil nods, sinking into a chair. “I changed my name when I joined SHIELD. My brother can take care of himself - he was in the marines like me before he joined law enforcement. He is a sheriff now. But I was not about to risk the safety of my sister-in-law and Stiles.”

“How did I not find that?” Tony asks incredulously. 

“You are good Tony, but when it comes to paperwork I am better. And I was trying to protect someone I love. Fury, Clint and I are the only ones who knew who they were in relation to me.”

“Phil.” Steve cuts Tony off before he can say anything else. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know.” Phil replies helplessly. “Clint found him outside my old building last night. He was basically hysterical. The only thing we got out of him was a plea to tell no one - not even his dad - where he was. We got him to drink some of Bruce’s calming tea and he crashed. Woke us up at four this morning screaming.” He pauses to gratefully accept the tea Bruce offers him.

“Nightmares? Poor kid.” Sam says.

“Not just nightmares.” Phil corrects. “Last time I heard something like that was right after Bucky came back.”

The room goes silent as the others process that. “Jesus,” Tony finally sighs, running a hand over his face. “What the hell happened to this kid?”

“I don’t know.” Phil repeats, frustrated at his lack of knowledge. “He told us this morning that he _needed_ to leave home. That he drove part way and when his car died he walked the rest. My brother and Stiles live in California! He walked from somewhere in Nevada! My nephew walked here from _Nevada_ , alone, and my fucking brother couldn’t even pick up the phone to tell me he was gone!” Phil is roaring by the end, pacing across the floor furiously.

Natasha is the one who stops him, by simply putting herself in his way. “Phil.” She says evenly, though her voice is hard. “I know you’re mad. I know you’re upset. But this isn’t helping anyone. Calm down. Use the emotion. Figure out what you can do to help Stiles.”

Phil seethes, watching her. Then he takes a deep breath and releases the emotion along with it, channeling it to his dedication to help Stiles. He slumps back down into his chair and buries his face in his hands. “I could have missed him.” He says, knowing they can hear him. “It was coincidence that Clint was stopping by to get some documents I needed. It was snowing, Stiles was in just a long sleeve shirt, and he had maybe $15. I nearly lost him and I wouldn’t have known because Noah didn’t bother to let me know that Stiles was in trouble, let alone missing.”

Someone puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But you didn’t.” So, it’s Sam. “He is here and safe.”

Phil nods and lifts his head. “That is what Clint told me last night. I just can’t help realizing how close it was and how easy it would be for him to slip away even now.”

“What about his mom?” Steve asks quietly.

“Dead. Frontotemporal dementia took her when Stiles was ten. It… it wasn’t good.” Phil explains.

Steve and Bruce wince in sympathy. “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Bruce asks.

Phil sighs. “I went out there a few months before the Chitauri. He seemed fine then. I haven’t had the time to go back since the Avengers formed.”

“So whatever has happened started sometime in the last two years.” Bruce concludes.

“Honestly I think it has probably been happening that whole time. There are some long term issues I have seen.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce asks, concerned.

“He’s touch-starved. Extremely. He flinches whenever anyone moves near him. His self-esteem is non-existent. When we told him about the tower he panicked and tried to let us off the hook for letting him stay. His exact words when I asked were “why would anyone want someone like me there”.” 

Sam frowns. “You’re right.” He says. “Those are long term abuse behaviors. This isn’t a new thing.” 

“I hate to ask,” Tony says hesitantly. “But is there any chance your brother…?”

“I wish I could say no.” Phil says. “My gut says he couldn’t have gotten bad enough to cause this. When I was out there for Claudia’s funeral something felt off. But I was only there for something like 36 hours and they had just lost Claudia. When I was there a few years ago they seemed good. Happy, but real. Not the front put on in abusive relationships. Noah may be part of the problem… I think he must be, but I doubt that is the whole story.”

“We need to know more.” Pepper states.

“You think I don’t agree?” Phil asks. “You all know how much I hate going in without thorough intel. I am flying blind here and it is my nephew on the line.”

“That is not what she is saying, Phil.” Steve mediates. “We know we need more intel - we need to figure out how to get it. Phil - can you try and get Stiles to agree to let you call his dad?”

“Sorry, Pepper. I was out of line. I’ll try talking to Stiles, but Steve I am only willing to push so far. I want Stiles here and safe and comfortable. If that means I have no answers I will handle that.”

“That is exactly how you should be thinking.” Sam assures him. “He seems to be responding extremely positively to you and Clint. Just keep doing what you are doing. On that note, everyone should follow Stiles’s lead on this. Let him pace his interactions with us - we don’t want to overwhelm the poor kid.”

“Phil?” Tony asks, the use of his name easily grabbing Phil’s attention. Tony looks unsure but determined. “With your permission I will have JARVIS look into Stiles. He may be able to find something that can help explain this.”

“Thank you for asking first Tony. Please do. I just ask that you come to me first with any information you find…. Until Stiles is ready to share I want to respect his privacy as much as possible.”

Tony nods his agreement.

“I should get back.” Phil says, standing and draining the last of the tea in his mug. “I told Stiles there was something I needed to discuss with Pepper before she left for her meeting. Speaking of…” He turns to Pepper who smiles at him sadly.

“I had JARVIS clear my schedule. This is more important.” She explains.

“Pepper.” Phil protests. “You didn’t have to-”

“Yes.” Pepper interrupts. “I did. I was actually going to offer as well - I am guessing Stiles doesn’t have much?”

“Just the clothes he was wearing - that I am going to burn - and an empty backpack.” Phil answers.

“Do you think he’d like to go shopping for some things? I don’t have to go, of course, but I know some good out of the way places we can try.”

“That sounds lovely, Pepper.” It really did. Pepper would be a great way to get Stiles interacting with the others. “I will ask Stiles and let you know.”

Phil goes to leave the common floor. Bucky reaches out and stops him as he walks past. “Anything he needs. Anything _you_ need. You just ask, okay?” The soldier says softly. Phil nods gratefully and Bucky squeezes his arm before releasing him and turning to his long ignored breakfast.

Phil gets back in the elevator and heads to his floor, unaccountably grateful to have his team at his back for this.


	5. 'Cause I Have Faith In You

Stiles follows Clint into the apartment… although it feels wrong to call it that considering it takes up the entire floor. Still, it appears surprisingly homey, given the space. Unlike the common floor, where you exited the elevator and were able to see almost the entire floor, Uncle Phil and Clint’s space had walls dividing the rooms.

Stiles can’t stop his smile when Clint bows extravagantly and gestures Stiles into the apartment with a flourish as he announced in the most horrific accent Stiles had ever heard, “Mi casa es su casa”. Clint winks as he straightens and leads Stiles into the living room. 

“Tony designed each of the floors for us specifically, right down to the structure. So if you go to any of the other floors the layout is different as well as the styling. Phil wanted the place cozy and I, well…” Clint shrugs. “I’m a sniper. If we were going to be living in a place with all glass exterior walls, I wanted to make sure anyone trying to shoot in would have a hell of a time. Tony and I worked together on it. So if the layout feels a little odd, that is probably why.”

Stiles glances around in surprise. He moves to the wall of floor to ceiling windows and turns to look back at the apartment. Moving along the wall, he is impressed. “You managed to block all the sightlines into the rest of the apartment. The one angle you get that can see into the kitchen you still only get the corner. How did you manage that? Is the whole apartment like that?”

Clint smiles. “I know what makes my job harder. I could tell Tony and his brain could make it work while keeping the place actually looking like a home. He also treated the glass on all the Avengers’ floors - they act like one-way mirrors now. No one can see in from the outside, but our views are unimpeded.” He explains.

“And Mr. Stark… he didn’t mind doing that?” Stiles asks.

“Ok, first off - please don’t call him Mr. Stark. You sound like Parker. It’s weird. He’s just Tony. And why would you call him Mr. Stark and me Clint?”

“Have I called you Clint?”

Clint stops. “...No. Wait, why haven’t you called me Clint? I don’t remember you calling me something else.”

“You’ve been right here.” He answers. ‘I haven’t needed to call you anything.” 

“Huh.” Clint considers that before shrugging. “Well since you are probably gonna need my name at some point call me Clint. Not Mr. Barton. That’s weird.”

“Whatever you say… Clint.” Stiles has to smile at the grin Clint casts his way.

“And to answer your question - no, Tony most definitely did not mind. Like I told you before - everyone deserves to feel safe.” Clint looks at Stiles intently as he says this, waiting until Stiles nods to continue. “Also he liked the challenge. He can’t resist. Sometimes Nat and I compete to see who can get him caught on the most ridiculous thing.”

Stiles tries to hide the thrill the idea of the challenge causes, but judging by the gleeful look on Clint’s face he fails. Stiles shakes his head, beginning to wonder what he has gotten himself into. But instead of the horror he has associated with that thought for the last two years he feels almost… excited.

“Come on,” Clint says. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”

Clint guides him out of the living room and through a gorgeous kitchen Stiles hopes he gets a chance to cook in to a hallway with several doors leading off it. “Alrighty.” Clint gestures to the door just to their left. “This is Phil and my room.” He continues down the hall, pointing at the rooms as he describes them. “Phil’s office, first guest bedroom, library, second guest bedroom and armory. The built in at the end is actually a door that leads to the living room.” 

Stiles is staring at him by the end, mind whirling. “I’m sorry.” He squeaks. “Did you say library? And armory?”

Clint grins at him and opens the door to the room he called the library. Floor to ceiling bookshelves line all the walls except the wall of windows. There is a desk pushed up to the windows and several armchairs scattered through the remaining space. 

“Wow.” Stiles breathes. “Are they all fiction or what?” Moving hesitantly into the room at Clint’s urging. He walks along one wall, fingers trailing over the spines, as he reads random titles.

“You’ll have to ask Phil, but I think he has a pretty good sampling of everything. Mostly non-fiction though if I remember.” Clint shrugs self-deprecatingly. “Reading’s not really my strong suit.”

Stiles wants to ask, but figures he should wait until he is willing to answer Clint’s questions in return. Instead he follows Clint back into the hallway.

“So,” Clint says. “You can pick which guest room you want to make yours. Both have their own bathrooms and are pretty similar in size. Don’t worry about the furniture - I bet my left shoe that someone will offer to take you shopping before the end of the day.”

“Just the left one?”

“Well, you know - gotta have a back-up plan.”

“Having one shoe is your back-up plan?”

“ I already have one left shoe. Last time I bet my right shoe… I lost. Natasha refuses to give it back.”

“Oh, of course.” Stiles actually smiles, really smiles, at Clint’s antics. It feels good. Then he sobers again. “ Um, is it too much to ask for that the bedrooms are soundproofed?”

Clint’s expression turns concerned. “Your nightmares are a reoccurring thing?” Stiles nods haltingly, staring at the floor. “Well you’ve certainly come to the right place.” Clint’s voice is grimly amused. He has a wry smile on his face when Stiles looks up in surprise. “All of us have our nightmares, kid. Some worse than others. Bucky was like you when he first got here… but he would come up swinging. To answer your question, yes the rooms are soundproofed. But you should know that JARVIS is everywhere on our floors and he has protocols in place for… well just about everything you can think of. Most of us have also given him full authority to make a judgement call. We can go over most of the protocols as they come up… and you can always ask anything, anytime. You can ask JARVIS too, if you don’t want to ask one of us. Isn’t that right, JARVIS?”

“Indeed, Agent Barton. I would be happy to assist you in anyway I can, Stiles.”

“So - nightmare protocol. Like I said, we all get them and the rooms are soundproofed. However, three nights in a row is the cut off - that is when JARVIS will intervene. He will also alert someone anytime you have a nightmare if it looks like you are in danger of physical harm. Like if your heart rate is too elevated for too long or you aren’t breathing right or you are self-harming or something. Any of JARVIS’s protocols can be tightened by the individual user, but if you want one loosened - say stretching the cut-off to four days in a row instead of three - you need Bruce or Phil’s approval. Got it?”

Stiles nods, throat tight. On some level he feels like he should be uncomfortable- trapped or exposed or something. Instead, the thought of someone watching and _caring_ is overwhelming and Stiles needs a second to get himself under control. Clint gives it to him, moving to open both guest bedroom doors before he says, “Go ahead and pick a room. I’ll grab some paper and a pen and we can start putting together a list of what you need, okay?”

He waits for Stiles’s nod before he clasps him on the shoulder and disappears into Phil’s office. Clearing his throat, Stiles asks, “JARVIS?” 

“Yes, Stiles?” The AI responds quietly.

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Stiles.”

Stiles quickly glances into the first room before heading to the second. He likes the idea of the second one - close to not only the books, but also the weapons and secondary escape route. The room itself is incredible - big, with one whole wall of windows like the other rooms. The furniture is all solid, medium-toned wood and matching… and Stiles loves it instantly. The continuity is soothing and he walks over to run his hand along the drafter’s desk placed near the windows. The bed, dresser, nightstands and bookcase round out the room. Stiles briefly looks in the walk-in closet he has nothing to fill with before checking out the full bath attached to the room.

That is where Clint finds him. Clint leans against the doorframe and raises an eyebrow, watching Stiles investigate the shower. “This the one you want?” 

Stiles nods. “Please.”

“JARVIS make a note. This is now Stiles’s room.” Clint says before waving a notepad at Stiles. “Come on let’s make a list.”

Stiles smiles as he follows Clint back into the room. Clint drops onto the bed and pats the spot next to him. “Okay, so far I have clothes and shoes on the list.” He says as Stiles sits next to him. “Do you want to change the furniture?”

“No!” Stiles rejects quickly. “Please don’t. I- I like it.” 

“Alright.” Clint agrees easily. “But you need like… stuff. To make it your own. So it feels like _your room_ instead of just a place to sleep.”

“I am really ok. You don’t need to do this.” Stiles protests quietly.

“It is going to happen. Throwing money at people is how Stark shows affection. Well that and a gross neglect of personal boundaries so fair warning on that.” Uncle Phil says from the doorway. “On the subject of buying things, Pepper wanted me to extend an invitation to go shopping.” 

Ignoring Clint’s “I get to keep my shoe!”, Stiles frowns. 

“But didn’t she have meetings and other things to do today? You know, important CEO type stuff?”

Uncle Phil enters the room and crouches in front of Stiles, forcing him to look at his uncle. “You are important too. We can go just the two of us or the three of us with Clint if you’d like. But Pepper is a shopping ninja and I think you’d like her.”

Stiles had liked the woman, and he can tell she is a close friend of his uncle. Still, the Avengers were a little overwhelming. “Just Pepper?” He asks.

“I’ll make sure the others don’t come.” Uncle Phil assures him.

“Okay then, I’d like to go with Pepper.” Turning to Clint, Stiles adds, “You don’t have to come if you have other things to do.”

Clint searches his face for a moment. “I can always find things I am supposed to be doing.” He jokes. “But I would be more than happy to come if you want me too.”

“No, it’s okay. Do your stuff. I’ll see you later though, right?” Stiles can’t help but ask.

“Try and stop me.” Clint promises. He gives Stiles a quick hug before heading out of the room. “Have fun! Buy stupid shit on Tony’s money!” He calls over his shoulder.

“JARVIS could you let Pepper know that I am going to finish showing Stiles around and get him put in the system, but then we’d love to go shopping with her?” Uncle Phil asks.

“Certainly, Agent Coulson.” There is a pause before JARVIS continues. “Miss Potts is thrilled you have accepted. She and Happy will be ready whenever you would like to go.”

“Happy?” Stiles asks.

“Happy Hogan. He is Pepper’s bodyguard and driver.” Uncle Phil explains. He hesitates before continuing. “Before I show you the rest, there is something I need to ask you Stiles. Well, two things, but they are related.”

Stiles nods. “What is it Uncle Phil?”

“Clint and I meant it earlier, you do not need to tell us anything you don’t want to. And nothing you tell us could make us feel differently about you.” Stiles’s eyes water again, but he nods for his uncle to continue. “I will respect whatever answers you tell me now and won’t bring it up again, alright?” He waits for Stiles to nod and then says, “Stiles - I want to call your dad.” 

Stiles flinches. Of course. Of course it was too good to be true. He fails to keep the sob from escaping. “I don’t… I don’t want to go back… I can’t go back there, Uncle Phil.” Stiles cries.

He hears his uncle swear before Stiles is once again wrapped up in a hug. “Oh, no Stiles. Shhh. It’s alright. That was not what I meant. You don’t have to go back there. Hush, it’s alright.” His uncle soothes. “I don’t want to call your dad to send you home. Stiles I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?” Stiles nods against his uncle’s chest. “Good. I am not sending you home. Your dad is going to have to try very hard to get you away from me now, okay? He is going to have to go through me and Clint and the others to get you back there. Not to mention Tony’s army of lawyers. You are safe here for as long as you want to stay.”

“Then why… do you… want… to call my… dad?” Stiles manages.

Uncle Phil’s arms tighten around him. “I didn’t know you were gone, Stiles. Your dad never called me or let me know.” Stiles’s breath hitches and his uncle starts running a hand up and down his back. “I don’t know why. It scares me that I didn’t know. I want - I need to know why, Stiles. Beyond that… I have had agents go missing on ops before, soldiers go MIA on maneuvers. It is a terrible feeling Stiles. I would like to give your dad the comfort of knowing you are safe. But I don’t know what your dad did, Stiles. It’s up to you to decide whether he deserves that comfort or not. I’ll follow your lead and I won’t bring it up again, I promise.”

Stiles considers this. Does his dad deserve this? Does he want to punish his dad… assuming his dad is worried that is? But if he was worried why wouldn’t he have called Uncle Phil? Is his dad even looking for him? Stiles ran because he was afraid of his dad turning from him. That fear had a legitimate basis - their relationship had been strained for years now, never quite recovering from the previous blow before a new one was inflicted. Could he handle knowing his fears were realized? That his dad had said good riddance and was glad he was gone? Would the definite knowledge be worse than living in this state of uncertain fear?

Then Stiles remembers coming home after Gerard and finding his dad frantic with worry and knows he has no choice.

Uncle Phil has stayed quiet, simply holding Stiles and letting him work through his thoughts without pressure. Stiles sits up and his uncle drops one arm, allowing him space but keeping one arm wrapped around him comfortingly.

“You should call him.” Stiles answers. “But I don’t… I can’t be there when you do, Uncle Phil.”

Relief flashes across his uncle’s face. “That’s fine. I’ll do it later tonight. Thank you, Stiles. If you change your mind and want to know what your dad says, even afterward, just let me know, okay?”

Stiles nods and rubs a sleeve over his eyes. “Uncle Phil? You said there were two things.”

“I did.” Uncle Phil agrees. “I know it is no secret that we are all worried about you, Stiles. Now you don’t have to tell us, but we would like to have at least a little information on what happened to show us how to best help you. If you’re okay with it, Tony and JARVIS have… _ways_ of obtaining a great deal of information. It would give us something to go off of without you needing to talk about it. If you want it all to stay secret for now though, I will have them back off and leave it alone.”

Stiles debates on this. On the one hand, much of his story is not recorded electronically in any form. On the other, what is recorded for them to find paints a very different picture from the reality. 

“They can look,” Stiles replies slowly, “but can they keep they information between just us at first? Just them, you, me and Clint? There are things you need to know before most of it will make sense and I would rather have the others get the full story instead of drawing incorrect conclusions. Having the information from Tony and JARVIS will make it easier when I do have the courage to tell you though.”

Uncle Phil looks surprised at this, but recovers quickly. “Of course. I won’t tell anyone without your consent.” He assures Stiles. “And being brave has nothing to do with it - your secrets are yours to do with as you choose.”

“I told Clint - I am going to have to tell someone soon… I can’t live holding this on my own. I just need to be brave enough to trust that you guys won’t let me fall once you know. It has happened too many times in the past. So being brave is a part of it. For me at least.”

“I love you kid, you know that?” Uncle Phil pulls him back in and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you too Uncle Phil,” Stiles sighs, melting into his Uncle’s hold. He soaks in the attention awhile longer before sitting up. “We shouldn’t keep Pepper waiting. You said something about showing me everything else?”

Uncle Phil stands and pulls Stiles up with him. “I am guessing Clint showed you everything on our floor?”

“Everything except the armory.” Stiles replies.

“Yes, well why don’t we leave that one for now? Come on, I’ll show you all the common spaces.”

They head back to the elevator, waving goodbye to Clint who is laying on the back of the couch flipping through a file. Uncle Phil pushes the button for the roof once they are in the elevator. “Tony thought it would be clever to mark the floors with symbols instead of numbers.” He explains, waving Stiles closer to look. “Ours is the arrow for obvious reasons. Steve, Sam and Bucky are the shield, Nat is the hourglass, Bruce the atom, Tony and Pepper are the triangle and Thor is the hammer. The roof is a tree, which will become obvious in a second.” 

The doors open and they step out into a rooftop garden. The extensive collection of plants is so large, Stiles forgets he is on top of a building in the middle of New York City. They take a quick lap of the garden before heading back into the elevator.

“The common floor we were on earlier is marked with the Avengers’ A. Feel free to use that space whenever you like… it is basically just the living room, dining room and a more extensive kitchen than any of us have on our floors. The theater floor is marked with the clapboard.” The elevator opens to an open floor. A large screen covers one wall and several couches and armchairs face that. There is a snack counter and popcorn machine behind the seating.

“JARVIS can play pretty much any movie or show you want. This floor also has every gaming system on the market and several that aren’t.” Uncle Phil explains, grinning at the awe on Stiles’s face. 

One floor down is the gym, marked by a weight bar. The floor has all of the traditional weight and cardio machines, a boxing ring, an obstacle course and a range. “You are only allowed to use the obstacle course and range with someone else.” Uncle Phil sas seriously. “And JARVIS does not count in this instance. Anything else you can use whenever you like.” 

They bypass the last two floors. The first is Bruce’s lab, marked by a erlenmeyer flask. The other is Tony’s workshop, marked by a wrench. “Both of those floors have a secondary door after you get off the elevator. Bruce and Tony can set those doors to only allow certain people or to deny access all together.” Uncle Phil explains. “JARVIS, can you let Pepper and Happy know that we are heading down now?”

“Certainly, Agent Coulson. They will meet you in the garage.”

When they reach the lobby (marked by a skull and crossbones for some reason), Uncle Phil and JARVIS help Stiles get his hand scanned into the system so he can access the floors on his own. JARVIS takes care of putting in the rest of the information for him. Uncle Phil has Stiles use his hand to get them onto the elevator and down to the garage ( a car).

There they find Pepper standing with a solidly built, serious looking man. He nods in greeting when Uncle Phil introduces him and Stiles. Happy then opens the door to a sedate town car and lets Pepper, Uncle Phil and Stiles climb in. 

“Well boys, are you ready for some fun?” Pepper asks. Stiles nods hesitantly and Pepper laughs as they pull out and head into the city.


	6. Well Everybody's Tired Of Being Alone

“So,” Pepper says after she stops laughing. “What kind of clothes do you like Stiles?”

“Normal stuff I guess? Jeans, t-shirts, plaids, hoodies…” Stiles replies, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I know just the place.” Pepper leans forward to give Happy directions. She and Uncle Phil spend the ride catching up on their lives since they last chatted. They make sure to include Stiles - taking a moment to describe someone they are discussing or fill in background information - without making him feel pressure to contribute. He does once , giving a wry observation on a CEO’s that gave Pepper trouble. It makes his uncle snort in amusement and Pepper gives a sunny laugh that has Stiles relaxing back into his seat and smiling. 

The shop they pull up to is a small one, nestled between a cafe and a comic book store that Stiles eyes with interest. He looks around the quiet street curiously and turns to Pepper when she laughs again.

“You learn to find and appreciate… not to mention guard… the hidden gems when you live her long enough.” Pepper whispers conspiratorially, tapping her nose and winking. She smiles when Stiles blushes. “Come on.”

Uncle Phil pulls open the door and waves Stiles into the store after Pepper. Stiles immediately knows why Pepper picked this store. Two of the walls are filled with a collection of button up shirts in every color and pattern imaginable. Pepper directs him to one of the walls.

“The men’s shirts are over here. Feel one and let me know if you like the fabric.” Stiles looks at Pepper curiously before following her instructions and pulling a random shirt off the rack. It looks fancier than even Stiles’s most dressy shirt from before. He feels a little trepidation - he’s never liked these types of shirts, but doesn’t want to disappoint Pepper - and reaches out to run a hand down the sleeve of the shirt. Stiles blinks in surprise before he repeats the action. The shirt is incredibly soft. It feels like he should be holding pajamas instead of a designer shirt.

“What?” Stiles asks, turning to Pepper. “How?”

She grins. “Best kept secret in New York.” She answers his half-formed questions. “I have no idea how they get them to feel that way and still look high-end professional. I think I have nearly that entire collection in my closet.” Pepper gestures at the other wall.

“Uncle Phil, did you know about these?” Stiles asks, turning and thrusting the shirt at his uncle. Uncle Phil feels the shirt and then turns to Pepper with both brows raised. 

“You’ve been holding out on me Pepper.” He accuses.

Pepper shrugs unrepentantly. “Sorry Phil. There are some secrets one must hold onto for special circumstances.” She winks at Stiles again and pulls the shirt from his hands. She checks the label and returns it to the rack before pulling out three different shirts. “Here,” Pepper says as she hands them to Stiles. “Why don’t you try these on to see which size fits the way you like and then we can come back and pick out the styles you like?”

Stiles agrees and follows Pepper to the fitting rooms. After carefully ensuring the door is locked, Stiles quickly strips out of the henley and t-shirt before pulling the t-shirt back on. He picks the smallest of the three shirts Pepper had given him and slides it on. It is even more comfortable on than he had guessed and Stiles is glad he agreed to shopping with Pepper. 

Stiles opens the door and steps out to show his uncle and Pepper. “That looks great.” Pepper remarks. “Do you like it Stiles?”

“I do. It’s really comfortable and I can move in it and everything.”

“They also look really great if you roll the sleeves.”

Panic takes over at Pepper’s seemingly harmless words and Stiles takes an uncontrollable step back, even if neither Pepper nor Uncle Phil had moved. He tugs the bottom of the sleeves, making sure they are down. “T-That’s okay.” Stiles stammers quickly. “I like them down.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” Pepper says kindly, apparently ignoring his reaction. “That is how the shirt was designed to be worn after all.”

“Why don’t you go change back into your other clothes and we can pick out some patterns you like?” Uncle Phil asks, and Stiles nods before slipping back into the dressing room, berating himself. He slips back into the henley before going back out, carrying the shirt. He follows Pepper back into the shop and scans the shirts before selecting two. Stiles hesitantly presents them to Pepper and Uncle Phil for approval.

Pepper studies him for a moment. “Stiles, how often do you wear shirts like this?”

Stiles fidgets nervously. “Most days?”

“That’s what I thought. You are going to need more than two of them then.” Pepper turns and marches to the wall of shirts. Waving away Stiles’s protests, she begins pulling out shirts and piling them in Stiles’s arms. “Stiles, honey, you need enough clothes to make it more than a couple of days without doing laundry. I’d prefer a lot more, but if you are uncomfortable with it a week is the bare minimum I’ll accept. Now, tell me if you dislike any of these. You should know, though, that I will switch it out for another… you can’t tell me you dislike all of them just to keep me from buying you a reasonable amount of shirts.”

Stiles stares at her, memories of another redhead rising and threatening to overwhelm him. He shoves them aside and shakes his head, realizing that Pepper is now watching him concerned. “Sorry,” he says. “You just reminded me of someone.”

“Not bad, I hope.”

“No.” Stiles says consideringly. “She is beautiful, confident, brilliant and powerful just like you. She also knows how to get what she wants but… I think you’re nicer than she is. She is sometimes… often… needlessly cruel, and while she cares a great deal for those she deems worthy, most people are below her notice. You actually seem to care. I mean you’re helping me and you don’t even know me.”

Stiles blushes furiously as he realizes what he has just said. Pepper just smiles and lays a gentle hand on his arm. Stiles forces himself not to flinch away. “Thank you, Stiles. That was very kind of you to say. Now, are you going to pick yourself some shirts or are you going to make me do it for you?”

In the end Stiles leaves the store with ten shirts, while both his uncle and Pepper grab a few of their own. They decide to break for lunch at the cafe next door and drop their bags off with Happy before heading in.

The food is simple yet delicious, and Stiles relaxes listening to the easy conversation between Uncle Phil and Pepper. He only manages to finish half his sandwich, but they wrap up the remainder and put it in the refrigerated compartment of the town car. Stiles ignores the concerned look that passes between Uncle Phil and Pepper when they think he’s not looking. 

Uncle Phil must catch the longing glance Stiles casts at the comic book store because suddenly he is being ushered inside.

“I want to look for some of the issues I am missing in the Howling Commandos post war run.” His uncle states in response to Stiles’s objections. As Stiles knows his uncle is, in fact, trying to collect those, he finds it hard to argue with that.

Uncle Phil actually does manage to find one of the issues he was missing. Stiles somehow ends up leaving with several issues of his favorites that he had missed in the chaos that is Beacon Hills. Stiles is surprised when Pepper adds several comics to the stack for herself, even more so when he realizes they are all issues of The Losers. As he stares at her, wondering if she is going to stop confusing him anytime soon, Pepper merely smiles mysteriously at him and hands over her card.

The rest of the afternoon flies past. They quickly find Stiles jeans, a coat, a couple of hoodies (he vehemently refuses to get the red one his uncle pulls out), socks and boxers (Stiles blushes furiously at this point). Pepper somehow manages to talk him into four different pairs of shoes when he has pretty much only worn one pair continuously for the last several years. They end up spending over an hour in a store devoted entirely to t-shirts, laughing as they each attempt to find the most absurd shirt in the store. Stiles selects several to finish off his wardrobe, not noticing until they check out that Pepper has slipped several plain, solid color shirts in amidst the graphic ones.

Uncle Phil insists they visit a homegoods store before calling it a day.

“But Uncle Phil, the room is _fine_. And you guys have already spent so much on me, I don’t need anything else.” Stiles protests.

“The room is _generic_ , Stiles. Clint was right - you should have stuff to make it your own.” Uncle Phil counters.

Stiles doesn’t want to argue. He should be grateful Uncle Phil and the others are letting him stay and going out of their way to help him. And he is. He is so overwhelmingly grateful that he is having trouble believing any of this is real. With each act of kindness Stiles owes them more and more and now it is too much. He will never be able to repay this and he just can’t take anymore today.

“Uncle Phil, please.” He begs, near tears. “Can’t we just go back to the tower?” Immediately his uncle’s arms are around him and Stiles burrows closer, too overwhelmed to be embarrassed about breaking down in public.

“I’m sorry.” Uncle Phil murmurs. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just want you to be happy here, to know you have a place. If you really don’t want to go we don’t have to. We will just go home.”

Home. Stiles hasn’t had a home in years. Not a proper one. He has had a place to stay, but it had become simply a house, no longer a home. Stiles has nearly forgotten what having a home is like. Maybe, just maybe, if his luck holds, these wonderful people will let him stay long enough to relearn.

Stiles nods in response to his uncle and climbs into the car. He dares a quick glance at Pepper as she climbs in, hoping she isn’t disappointed in him. “Sorry for cutting the trip short.” He apologizes quietly. 

“Oh, honey.” Pepper leans forward to put a hand on Stiles’s knee. “This trip was about you. I should be the one apologizing to you. I never meant to upset you.”

Stiles shakes his head rapidly. “You guys were great! I just… it’s… a lot. No one has done anything for me, especially not on this scale, in a long time. I’m just… overwhelmed. I don’t deserve all of this.” He confesses.

“You do.” Pepper counters, gentle but leaving no room for argument. “You deserve to be treated with kindness.”

Stiles stays silent, wondering at the implications of that. Could it be true? Could he learn to accept their kindness without feeling unworthy? … But no. They still don’t know him. Not really. Everyone who does has turned from him. Uncle Phil, Pepper, Clint, all of them will too once they realize who he really is. He doesn’t deserve their kindness, their generosity. He should go, leave under his own power before he is cast out again. But Stiles knows. He knows himself well enough to know that if he leaves here - by his own choosing or being pushed out - he won’t make it to Christmas. He just won’t. He doesn’t have the strength to continue on alone.

So he decides to cling to the tiny flicker of hope that this time will be different. That they mean it when they say nothing could make them change their minds. He will work to prove he is useful, that he is not a waste of space, of time, of money and effort. It didn’t work with the pack but maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. He knows exactly how he can start too.

“Uncle Phil? Do you guys ever do like family meals? Everybody together?” Stiles asks.

Uncle Phil studies him. “Yes, we usually try to at least once a week. Sometimes more if someone feels like cooking for everyone. Why do you ask?”

“I’d like to cook for everyone tonight, I mean, if you think they would like that. As a thank you.”

“You know you don’t have to thank us right?”

“I want to. Please. I like cooking. But, um, I don’t have to, if you think it is a bad idea….”

“It sounds lovely, Stiles.” Pepper interjects. “I will make sure everyone knows to be there tonight.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I mean I don’t want to make anyone cancel their plans or anything. I can do it another night if tonight doesn’t work for everyone. Or I can makes something for each person when they are ready! Or…”

“Stiles.” Uncle Phil silences the rambling. “No one has any plans tonight. We will just let them know when you are making dinner so they know to come to the common floor and not eat on their own.” 

“Oh… right.” Stiles says sheepishly. A moment passes before he asks, “How many servings should I plan?”

“Like I said no one has plans so they should all be there.” Uncle Phil assures him.

“Right, but like… sometimes people eat more than normal and I would guess several of the Avengers fall into that category right? But how much? I mean should I plan on two servings for everyone or…?”

“Oh I see. Well Steve eats about four times what a normal metabolism takes, Bucky is around three usually, Natasha and Bruce both hang around two, Clint it depends on if he has trained that day or not… why don’t you just plan on two servings for everyone? That should cover pretty much everything I would think.” Uncle Phil explains.

Stiles nods, mind flipping through his repertoire of recipes for something he can put together that will please hopefully everyone. 

“Stiles?” Pepper asks. 

“Yeah?”

“I am hopeless at cooking but I am a fair baker… I could make dessert to go along with your dinner?” 

Stiles considers. While he finally managed to get a handle on and eventually get pretty good at cooking, Melissa was a terrible baker and Stiles had never figured that out on his own. Having a dessert would be a good idea. He smiles at Pepper. “That would be nice.”

Happy pulls into the garage of the tower and the three climb out and collect there bags. They head up to their respective floors, Pepper promising to meet Stiles in the common floor kitchen soon. Stiles and Uncle Phil ride to their floor in silence. Stiles is putting his bags away in his room when he hears someone come in behind him.

“Are we ok?” his uncle asks.

Stiles crosses the room and for the first time initiates a hug with Uncle Phil. “Of course. I love you Uncle Phil.” 

His uncle sighs in relief. “I love you too Stiles. Just let me know to back off earlier if I am pushing you too hard on something okay? I don’t want to upset you.”

“I know. I thought I could handle it but it all just piled up too fast.” Releasing his uncle, Stiles steps back. “I should probably head down to meet Pepper. What are you going to do?”

“I should go and find Clint. Who knows what kind of trouble he managed to get into today. I’ll stop by the common floor in a bit alright?”

“Take your time. It’s just Pepper, right? We will be okay.”

“Famous last words.” Uncle Phil teases before leading Stiles out of the apartment. They say goodbye when Stiles gets off at the common floor, his uncle continuing down to the gym. Pepper isn’t there yet, and Stiles decides to see if they have all the ingredients for the dish he is planning. He starts sorting through the pantry and fridge, pulling out the ingredients as he finds them. After sorting through everything he frowns.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

“Would you know what ingredients the others have on their floors? I am missing a few things.”

“I know some of what they have. I can also ask them if they have an item and if they would mind donating it to dinner. What do you still require?”

“A few cans of pineapple and a few of chow mein noodles. I think I have everything else.” Stiles replies, eyes scanning his finds once again. 

“Your uncle has two cans of the chow mein noodles. He says you are welcome to them and he will bring them with him when he comes. Does that suffice for your timing?” 

“Yeah that’s fine. I don’t need them until the end. Any luck on the pineapple?”

“I have contacted those most likely to have pineapple on their floors. Dr. Banner has a fresh pineapple and wishes to inquire if that will meet your needs.” 

“Actually that is even better than having canned… he doesn’t mind?”

“No. He says he will bring it to you shortly.”

“Tell him thank you for me? I’ll thank him again when I see him but never hurts to do it twice.”

“Certainly.”

Stiles sorts through his ingredients. Pulling out the massive bag of rice, he stops and looks around.

“Second cabinet to your right, on the bottom.” JARVIS supplies helpfully.

“You’re a lifesaver JARVIS.” Stiles responds, pulling open the cabinet to find the large pan. He starts the rice and then turns his attention to the chicken. Stiles dumps ten chicken breasts in a pot and fills it with water before setting it to boil, wondering what his life had come to when he was cooking in a kitchen that not only had ten chicken breasts available for him to use, but in fact had more than double that. He got that the Avengers as a group could eat a lot but that still seemed excessive. 

Pepper walks in. She changed out of her nicer clothes from earlier and is now in cutoffs and an old MIT t-shirt. She throws her hair up into a bun as she comes into the kitchen and claps her hands. “Alright. What are you making so that I can make a dessert that pairs well?”

“Do you know anything about Hawaiian food?” Stiles asks her.

Pepper blinks, not expecting that. “I can’t say that I do.”

“How would you feel about making something you have never had before? I know the recipe.” Stiles asks cautiously.

“Intrigued now.” Pepper responds.

“So I am making snow on the mountain. It is a Hawaiian dish my friend Danny taught me to make. His dad tried to show me how to make chocolate haupia pie. His was delicious… we gave mine to the dog to play with. But I remember the recipe! And it is supposed to be pretty simple if you know how to bake… I just think it would go well with dinner, especially since I was thinking of doing a spicy dish as well if I can think of one.”

“What about Chicken Tikka?” Bruce asks. Stiles jumps. He hadn’t seen or heard the man enter. 

“Sorry.” Bruce apologizes, coming over to place the pineapple on the counter. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” Stiles replies. “Um, Dr. Banner - did you say Chicken Tikka?”

“Call me Bruce. And yes. I know it isn’t Hawaiian but I think it would pair well with the dishes you selected, and I can make it fairly quickly if you don’t mind the help.”

 

“Uh, no. That sounds perfect actually. Thank you.” Stiles replies, calculating timing. 

“I will be right back then… all my spices are on my floor.” Bruce says, heading back to the elevator. 

Stiles turns back to find Pepper patiently awaiting instructions. He carefully recites the steps he remembers Mr. Mahealani explaining. She sets to work creating the coconut mixture. Stiles turns back to his portion of the meal. He checks the rice and chicken before he combines the ingredients for the sauce and sets that simmering. Stiles has just moved on to chopping the vegetables when Bruce returns, a mason jar in hand.

Seeing Stiles’s confused glance, Bruce explains, “I make it often enough that it is worth it to keep a pre mixed batch of spices handy… saves time. If you have a moment to spare could you help me cut up the chicken breasts? I need to get these going if they are going to be ready when yours is.” 

Stiles agrees easily. He checks his items once more before he joins Bruce with a cutting board and knife. Between the two of them, the chicken is ready in no time. Bruce takes over and Stiles returns to his vegetables. The three of them work in companionable silence, only speaking to ask for something. 

Stiles relaxes into the familiar motions of cooking. He is so relaxed in fact, that he doesn’t notice at first when he pushes the too long sleeves of the henley up out of his way as he tries to cut the pineapple. He does notice the abrupt lack of motion when Bruce freezes next to him. Stiles looks up in surprise to find Bruce looking at his wrists with horror. He follows the man’s gaze to find he pushed his sleeves up above the scars on his wrists, but luckily not enough to reveal the ones on his forearms. Stiles goes to pull the sleeves back down, but Bruce gently stills his hands and quietly murmurs, “May I?”

Stiles glances over his shoulder but Pepper is concentrating on her pie and doesn’t appear to notice anything is happening behind her. He looks back at Bruce, who is calmly awaiting his answer. Slowly, Stiles extends his arms to place his wrists in Bruce’s hands. Bruce keeps his touch just firm enough to be grounding without making Stiles feel trapped. After a few moments he looks up to meet Stiles’s eyes. The doctor’s eyes are dark with sympathy and compassion… but no pity or disgust. Stiles’s nearly drops from relief. Bruce nods at him and then returns to his cooking. Stiles’s pulls his sleeves back down and goes back to fighting with the pineapple.

Once things are nearly done, Stiles asks JARVIS to alert the others. Stiles begins to place the various bowls he has prepared along one edge of the counter. He shreds the boiled chicken and adds that to the line just as Uncle Phil and Clint arrive. 

“Sorry,” Uncle Phil apologizes as they come over to hand Stiles the cans of chow mein. “I got caught up in some paperwork.” 

“It’s fine.” Stiles assures him, returning Clint’s one armed hug of greeting before opening the cans and dumping them in a bowl. “See? Done.” Clint laughs and gently ruffles Stiles’s hair before moving to sit at the table.

The rest of the Avengers trickle in over the next few minutes as Bruce finishes up his chicken and Pepper places the first layer of her pie in the refrigerator to set. They look intrigued by the set up, but wait more patiently than Stiles would have guessed. Once everyone is there, Stiles clears his throat nervously. He twitches under the attention of all the Avengers and Clint comes to stand next to him. Stiles leans into him gratefully and begins.

“Hey. Um, I thought I would make dinner to thank you all for letting me stay here. It’s, uh, have any of you had snow on the mountain before?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Really? No one? Weird. Uh, sorry. Anyway, it is really good and super useful for large groups like this. You start by putting your rice on your plate.” Stiles grabs a plate from the stack he set out earlier and demonstrates, putting a small mound of rice in the center. “Then you have the noodles, the chicken and the sauce. After that you pick your toppings. I put out all kinds of stuff - celery, bell peppers, tomatoes, onions, almonds, olives, coconut, pineapple, cheese... “ He trails off before looking at the others and shrugging. “I like it cause you can take as much or as little of whatever you want. I made a lot so you should be able to take as much as you want. I hope you like it. Bruce made chicken tikka to go along with it so make sure and get that too.”

“It looks - and smells - delicious, kid.” Clint says, squeezing his shoulders. “I can’t wait to try it.” He proceeds to fill his plate with an absurd amount of food, the other Avengers lining up behind him to wait for their turn at the food. Stiles finishes making his plate and takes a seat at the table. Various pleased noises arise around the table as the rest sit and begin eating. They all praise Stiles and Bruce for the meal, and Stiles flushes bright and smiles shyly at the table. 

Steve is the first to go back for seconds, piling his plate so high some of his toppings are in danger of rolling right off the edge of the plate. “The fact that you can add what you want instead of being stuck with everything is my favorite part about this.” He says before shoving a forkful into his mouth. “I love pineapple, but Buck is allergic to it. Usually means we just have to leave it out altogether.”

“It’s true.” Bucky says from the counter, eyeing the bowl of pineapple with distrust. 

“I figured it was a good place to start.” Stiles says shyly. “Until I learn what types of stuff you guys like and don’t like and what everyone is allergic to and so on, a build your own recipe seemed a safer bet.” 

“It was definitely a brilliant idea.” Uncle Phil praises. 

After everyone has finished eating - demolishing nearly everything Bruce and Stiles had made - they sit around the table drinking coffee, wine, or beer depending on the person. Stiles checks the time and then says, just loud enough to capture the attention of everyone, “Pepper also made a dessert to finish off our meal. It should be just about ready, right Pepper?”

Pepper glances at the clock. “Yeah it should be ready to eat.”

“What did you make, Pep?” Tony asks, sitting up straighter at the promise of dessert. 

“Ask Stiles.” Pepper replies. “He was the one who knew it.” 

“Chocolate Haupia Pie.” Stiles answers. “The same family that taught me to make snow on the mountain tried to teach me how to make this as well. I hope Pepper’s comes out better than mine did.”

Pepper places the pie on the table and then slaps both Tony and Clint’s hands away from it. “Heathens, the lot of you.” She chides before carefully slicing and serving the pie. It tastes just right, Stiles is relieved to find, and the coconut is the perfect complement to the spice of Bruce’s chicken. The others seem to agree, if the praise directed at him and Pepper is any indication. Stiles’s pleased smile is interrupted by a yawn and he blinks sleepily. 

“I think I am going to head up and try to get some sleep.” He says quietly to Uncle Phil. Uncle Phil nods. 

“Want me to come up?” 

Stiles considers for a moment. “No, I’ll be good. I can always have JARVIS get you if I need to right?”

“Right.” His uncle confirms. Stiles nods and then stands. 

“Goodnight, everyone.” He says, waving before heading to the elevator. A chorus of goodnights and thank yous for the dinner follow him, cutting off as the elevator doors close. Stiles stumbles into the apartment, warm, sleepy and comfortable full. He finds his room and closes the door. He strips out of the t-shirt, leaving the henley, kicks out of his shoes and removes the knife sheath before crawling under the covers. Stiles slips the knife under the mattress within easy reach and, praying for no nightmares, slips into sleep.


	7. Of Finding Yourself Stuck Out On The Ledge

Phil drops Stiles off at the common floor to begin cooking dinner and continues down to find Clint. He arrives at the gym to find several of the others. Steve and Natasha are circling each other in the ring. Bucky and Clint appear to be having some sort of bizarre shooting contest… Phil has learned it is better not to ask. Bruce is perched on a yoga mat in the corner. Rather than interrupt, Phil drops onto one of the benches lining the wall. He leans forward to brace his elbows on his thighs and drops his head to hang while he attempts to massage away some of the tension building in his neck and shoulders. 

Slender hands take over for his own as two bodies settles on either side of his own. Phil opens his eyes and scoots forward on the bench to give Natasha more room to work. Then he tilts his head to meet Steve’s concerned gaze. “Did something happen?” The soldier asks. The sounds from the range cease as Bucky and Clint become aware of his presence and come over to join the group, Bruce drifting after them.

Phil groans as Natasha encounters a particularly tense portion and then sighs in relief as the muscles unknit under her skillful hands. “I am an idiot, is what happened.” He admits. The others don’t comment, but Phil can practically hear their skepticism regardless. “Everything was going well at first. Stiles was quiet, but seemed to be enjoying himself anyway. He barely ate at lunch, which can’t be good, but it didn’t seem like he was shorting himself or anything… just not hungry. He joked with us some and we were pretty successful in building him enough of a wardrobe to get started with. He really seems to like Pepper. They are working on making dinner for us all now - so family dinner tonight. Stiles even willingly mentioned someone from back home for the first time.”

“That all seems positive, Phil.” Steve says. “What changed?”

“I wanted to take him to get some stuff for his room after we finished with clothes. You know, decorations and things like that. The stuff you were talking about earlier Clint. Stuff to make his room more personalized.” Clint nods in understanding. “Stiles refused and I pushed the issue. Stiles nearly broke down in the middle of the sidewalk.”

“Why? Bucky asks quietly. “What was it about that issue that set him off?”

Phil looks around at the people surrounding him - two boys raised in the depression and two more raised in poor, abusive home situations - and snorts. “Back before Tony Stark had entered our lives - how would you have felt if, after having next to nothing, suddenly someone is spending hundreds of dollars on you in one afternoon? Particularly on things you don’t consider necessary?”

Before any of them can answer, although by the looks on their faces they know full well what Phil is talking about, JARVIS interjects. 

“Pardon the interruption. Stiles was unable to find some of the ingredients he requires on the common floor and wishes for me to inquire as to availability in your personal stores. Agent Coulson - you can two cans of the chow mein noodles he needs. Is he welcome to them?”

“Of course.” Phil replies in surprise. “Does he need them immediately or can I bring them when I stop by later?” 

“That will suffice. Stiles also requested several cans of pineapple. Would any of you have those on hand?”

“I have a fresh pineapple on my floor… will that work?” Bruce responds. 

“Apparently that would be ideal.”

“I will go grab it and drop it off to him.” Bruce says, turning to head to the elevator.

“So what happened after Stiles got upset?” Steve brings them back to the topic they had been discussing.

“We came back here. He seemed to relax once we agreed to come home and assured him we weren’t angry or disappointed. He offered to make everyone dinner as a thank you and Pepper offered to make dessert. Stiles accepted her help readily enough, and he actually initiated contact with me after we got back so I don’t think I set us back too far.” Phil sighs.

Natasha’s grip tightens to just this side of pain. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was an accident and everything worked out.”

“I know my nephew, Natasha.” Phil counters, unwilling to let himself off the hook. “His dad is a cop and before she died - racking up thousands of dollars in medical bills in the process - his mom was an artist. They have never had extra cash around. Even when we went out to breakfast this morning, he tried to give me all the cash he had to cover his portion of the meal. When I refused, he found a way to pay us back anyway. He is up there right now making dinner to try and repay all of you for letting him stay here. I should have known better than to try and make him accept that much money being spent on him.”

“You were just trying to get him the things he deserves.” Clint argues quietly. 

“I went about it the wrong way.” 

“Maybe.” Clint concedes. “But I saw all the same signs you did today, and I know exactly how it feels to be pulled from a spartan kind of lifestyle and thrust into luxury, and I never even considered it would be a problem. Like you said, it was my idea to get him stuff for his room. Stiles seems to have bounced back from it, and I think we need to just learn from this and move on. It won’t help to dwell. We are all going to make mistakes going forward. It’s like when Bucky first got here - we are walking through a minefield blind. We don’t know what will trip one, but we can pick ourselves back up and keep trying to get to the other side.”

“Clint is right. Yeah we had issues when I first started trying to be a person again, but the fact that you all cared enough to keep trying meant so much more that the times you accidentally set me off barely mattered.” Bucky says softly. 

“Maybe we can get a little light to shine on the field.” Steve suggests. “Did you have any luck getting Stiles to agree to call his dad?”

“I did actually.” Phil replies, relieved at the idea of a path forward. “Stiles said I could call him, but Stiles didn’t want to know anything. I will call Noah after dinner and see what I can gain.”

“And maybe Tony will have come up with something.” Steve agrees.

“Knowing him, we will have Stiles’s entire life story by dessert.” Phil concedes wryly. “I actually have something I need to discuss with Tony… JARVIS is he in his lab?”

“Yes, Agent. Sir says you are welcome to stop by.”

“I’ll do that now, then. Clint will you come with me? The rest of you should get ready for dinner.”

They disperse, Natasha, Steve and Bucky heading towards the locker rooms while Phil and Clint head to the elevator. Once inside Phil says, “JARVIS hold the elevator please. Maximum privacy.” JARVIS chimes in acknowledgment.

“What is it?” Clint asks, worried.

“Nothing bad…” Phil begins slowly. “Just something I wanted to run past you first.”

“Shoot.”

“I know we already agreed to let Stiles stay with us… thank you again for that.” Clint nods but remains silent. “Something happened earlier when I brought up calling his dad. Stiles thought I wanted to call in order to send him back. He panicked - kept saying he couldn’t go back.” Clint winces in sympathy. “It got me thinking… Stiles is 17. Technically his dad could take him back if he finds out he is here, and there would be little we could do about it.”

Clint makes the leap before Phil has to explain. “You want to adopt him?”

“Or at least make me his legal guardian. It would make sure he is safe.... And it might help prove to him that we mean it when we say we want him here. I want to get Pepper and Tony working on this with us. They have the legal power to make it happen, and they might have some ideas on how to go about this without dragging poor Stiles into court or anything.”

“I think it sounds like a good idea. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“It is just a big commitment - for both of us. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like I made this huge, life-changing decision without you. You are an integral part of my life, Clint. I need you to be okay with this before I decide on a course of action.”

Clint steps closer and leans down to press a firm kiss to Phil’s lips. Phil melts into it, for just a moment letting everything fall to the background. “Let’s go talk to Tony.” Clint says firmly, breaking the kiss.

Phil smiles at him and lets JARVIS lift the security and resume their journey to Tony’s lab. Tony is waiting for them, not even pretending to be working. “I heard you had a bit of a rough day.” He remarks.

“You could say that.” Phil admits wryly.

“I, uh, I had something I wanted to give to the kid… I should wait for tomorrow?” Tony asks hesitantly.

“That is probably for the best.” Phil agrees. He debates asking what, exactly, Tony wants to give Stiles, but decides to trust him. Instead he addresses his reason for coming down. “I am concerned about the legal implications of Stiles staying here. I want to call his dad tonight and get some answers, as well as letting him know Stiles is safe. I won’t let Stiles go back there. Even if I don’t know what has happened, I am not about to put him back in that situation.”

Tony hums, picking up a screwdriver and twirling it around as he thinks. “Well the easiest way would probably be to get his dad to make you Stiles’s legal guardian. If you think your brother would agree, you could get that handled without having to go to court or anything. And then of he changed his mind and tried to get Stiles back we would have more ground to fight with.”

“I’ll ask Noah when I call tonight. I actually want you there as well, if you are okay with it. You too Clint. Stiles knows you are looking into his history. He just asked that we keep the information between the three of us and JARVIS. I think my conversation with Noah may give you some more to work with. Other opinions are always worthwhile, and honestly, I may need you two to keep me in line, depending on how this falls out.”

“I’m surprised the kid okayed me and JARVIS poking around.” 

“He did warn that the electronic trail would lead you to false conclusions. Stiles wants to wait until he is ready to tell his side before we give the information to the others precisely for that reason.” Phil warns.

“Interesting.” Tony murmurs, eyes going distant as he examines the implications of that. He pulls himself back before getting too lost however. “I would be happy to listen in as you talk to the big bad brother. I will get some people working out paths to take in terms of the legal side of things. Don’t worry, Agent. We will keep him safe.” Tony promises.

“Thank you, Tony.” Phil says, relieved. 

Just than, JARVIS chimes in. “Stiles would like me to inform you that dinner is nearly ready.”

“Shit.” Phil curses. “I was supposed to grab those noodles for Stiles.”

“We’ll go grab them now.” Clint says. “See ya at dinner Tony.” 

Tony salutes a goodbye and Phil and Clint hurry to their floor where they grab the noodles before heading back to the common floor. They arrive to find Stiles working companionably with Pepper and Bruce, and Phil relaxes somewhat when he sees the contentedness in his nephew. 

“Sorry,” Phil apologizes as he hands the cans to Stiles. “I got caught up in some paperwork.” Or at least getting paperwork started, he excuses the half truth. 

“It’s fine.” Stiles replies, almost cheerfully. He eagerly returns Clint’s hug before dumping the noodles in a bowl. “See? Done.” Stiles smiles impishly at him. Clint laughs and ruffles Stiles’s hair. Phil smiles when he notices Stiles leaning into the touch instead of shying away. Bruce is watching them as well, a faint smile on his face. He glances to Phil and gives him a look that says he needs to talk to Phil alone. Phil nods in understanding and Bruce turns back to his food. 

Dinner goes smoothly. Stiles nearly falters when he goes to explain his dish, but Clint steps in to offer silent support and Phil is pleased with how readily Stiles accepts and uses it to explain while under the attention of the whole group. The food is delicious, and it was a clever choice - one he is sure to point out. Phil’s heart aches at how gentle everyone is with Stiles, praising his meal and him while making sure not to force too much attention on the skittish teen. 

After they have finished Pepper’s delightful pie, he notices Stiles yawning. Stiles leans into him slightly and says, “I think I am going to head up and try to get some sleep.”

Phil nods and considers his relaxed nephew. “Wand me to come up?” He asks.

Stiles actually takes a moment to consider the offer before replying, leading Phil to believe he is not merely saying it to make things easy for Phil. “No, I’ll be good. I can always have JARVIS get you if I need to right?” 

“Right.” Phil confirms, watching as his nephew stands and waves goodbye to the others before disappearing into the elevator. He almost asks JARVIS to keep an eye on Stiles, but refrains as he is certain the AI has been monitoring the teen since he stepped foot in the tower. 

He turns back to find the others cleaning up the remains of the meal. They had devoured all of the food, so it was mostly a matter of placing the dishes and glasses in the dishwasher, washing some of the larger pans by hand, and wiping down the table and counters. They finish quickly, and then begin to disperse. Sam challenges Bucky to a round of Mario Cart, and they head off toward the theater floor with Steve trailing behind gleefully fanning the flames of their snarky banter. Natasha glances at the men and then leads Pepper away, asking about borrowing jewelry for the fundraiser they have coming in a couple weeks. 

Bruce glances from Tony and Clint to Phil, arching a brow in question. Phil nods. “Tony is researching into Stiles and Clint’s been there since the beginning. Thank you for protecting Stiles’s privacy, but Stiles has already given his permission for the two of them to learn what they can.” 

“What’s going on?” Clint asks.

“Have either of you seen Stiles’s arms?” Bruce asks in return.

Phil considers. “No. He’s been in long sleeves the entire time he’s been here.” He starts to get a very bad feeling about this. Something occurs to him then. “You know when we were shopping earlier Pepper made a comment about rolling up the sleeves on a shirt and he shut down a little.”

Bruce nods, unsurprised. “When we were cooking earlier, he pushed his sleeves up slightly to get them out of his way. Not far, not even halfway up his forearms, but enough. He let me look when I asked. Phil… his wrists are scarred to hell.”

“Self-inflicted?” Tony asks, voice grave. Phil is grateful as he couldn’t have found the words to ask. 

“Not the ones I saw.” Bruce answers and Phil has the joy of feeling a split second of overwhelming relief followed by a growing anger at the thought of what else could have caused those scars.

“Restraints?” He manages to ask.

“Yes.” Bruce answers shortly. “From what I saw…” Bruce pauses and breathes deep, slowly unclenching his fists. When he speaks again, his voice is carefully controlled. “It is not just one set of scars. I could see evidence of wire or cabling, rope and medical grade restraints. Phil, he has been tied up, against his will, multiple times. Multiple times long enough for him to do enough damage to scar as he tries to get out. That kid…” Bruce has to stop again, and Tony slowly eases back a step. Phil should say something, should check on Bruce, but all his concentration is on the unfathomable rage he feels choking him. Tony thankfully steps in even as he eases back further.

“Bruce - we good?” he asks cautiously. Bruce focuses on his breathing and the other three keep quiet, letting him concentrate. Eventually Bruce calms enough to open his eyes. 

“Sorry,” He apologizes quietly. “I just had to keep it in earlier - I didn’t want to scare Stiles. I hadn’t realized it had built up so much.”

“No worries, Big Guy.” Tony says, relaxing his defensive posture. “You had that simmering for a good while there. I think if Agent could go big and green we would be having an incident right now. Are you okay Phil?”

Phil shakes his head roughly. Clint comes close but refrains from touching Phil, long years together guiding him. “Come on.” Clint urges. “Let’s go work off some of that before you try and talk to your brother.”

Phil nearly sees red and whirls to head to the gym where he can unleash some of his fury without hurting anyone. He hears Clint telling Tony that they will come find him after Phil calms down so they can make their phone call. Then the door closes and Phil is left alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t even bother to change when he makes it to the gym, doesn’t bother to do anything before heading over to the heavy bag Steve favors and letting loose. He takes all his rage, his helplessness in the face of his nephew’s pain, his frustration at his lack of knowledge, everything and focuses it into doing his best to destroy the bag in front of him. 

“Fuck, Phil, your hands…” is the only warning he gets before Phil is being wrenched away from the bag. He lashes out, but Clint easily dodges the swing. Phil keeps coming. Usually he and Clint are fairly evenly matched, but Phil’s too emotional to think about strategy and Clint has no problem avoiding injury. Clint is also making sure Phil doesn’t hurt himself, doging Phil’s attacks and letting Phil exhaust himself. Eventually Clint flips Phil onto the floor and he just lays there panting. Clint’s face comes into view over his. 

“Better?’ 

Phil nods and reaches a hand out. Clint hauls him to his feet and then pulls him into his arms. Phil lets himself lean on Clint and brings his arms up to cling to his partner.

“Sorry.” He mutters.

“None of that. Seriously, I am surprised you made it this long… you have been nearly crawling out of your skin since Stiles woke us up this morning. None of us were pleased with what Bruce had to say … I can see why that was the final straw of today. Honest question, though. Are you going to be able to handle that call to your brother? Because we can push it to another time when you can be more level headed about it.”

Phil considers this. “No, I want to do it tonight. I need answers, Clint, and I am honestly too drained at this point to get that worked up again. Might as well take advantage of my forced levelness to make the call.”

Clint doesn’t question him, merely tells JARVIS to let Tony know they are ready. Tony agrees to meet them back on the common floor and they head to the elevator. “JARVIS?” Phil asks. “Can you make this floor inaccessible until I say otherwise?”

“Of course, Agent Coulson.”

Phil collapses onto the couch when they reach the floor, and Clint detours to the kitchen before perching on the coffee table in front of him. Clint has coaxed him through most of a bottle of gatorade when Tony arrives. The engineer drops into the armchair next to the couch and studies Phil.

“You okay to do this Agent?” 

“Yeah, I need to do it now.” Phil answers. “JARVIS, can you patch the call through so Tony and Clint can hear?”

“Certainly.”

“Will you two be able to keep quiet? I don’t want Noah to know there is an audience.” Phil asks. The two nod. “Alright, JARVIS go ahead.”

They wait as the line rings. Then the line clicks open and a weary voice answers. “Stilinski.”

“Noah.” 

“...Phil? Why are you calling?”

Phil can feel his brows creeping up. “I need a reason to call you?”

“No, of course not.” Noah sounds defensive, almost nervous. “But it’s been awhile since you called me.”

“It has been awhile. I wanted to check in, make sure everything was good with you guys.” Phil responds slowly. Not quite willing to give up his edge yet.

He hears a hitch in the breathing on the other side. “Phil,” his brother says brokenly. “Phil, I fucked up.”

“What did you do, Noah?” Phil asks, keeping his voice even as Clint and Tony exchange glances.

“Things have gone so far to shit I don’t even know how to begin pulling myself out. And I don’t even… I can’t… Stiles is gone Phil. I lost my baby and it’s my fault.” Muffled sobs carry across the line and Phil squeezes his eyes shut. Clint places a steadying hand on his shoulder. Phil hesitates, unsure if he wants to ease the evident suffering before he knows why this has happened. It’s his big brother though, and Phil has never been able to stand seeing him hurt.

“Noah… Stiles is here.”

The other side of the line goes silent for long enough that Phil begins to fear the call has disconnected. Then, so quietly he thinks he imagines it, Noah speaks. “He’s there?” Fragile hope laces the words. It sounds like Noah stops breathing as he awaits confirmation.

“He is.” 

“Oh, god. Oh thank god. He’s alive, oh god my baby’s alive.” Noah sobs. Tony is listening with his brows nearly touching his hairline and Clint’s brow is furrowed in confusion. Phil’s heart clenches as he listens to his brother sob in relief. This didn’t sound like a man that was abusing his son. He simply sounded like a terrified parent. Still, Phil was well aware that sometimes abuse and love were not mutually exclusive. He let his brother pull himself together without saying anything. 

“Phil?” The question is the first intelligible word in awhile. “Can I talk to him?”

“No.” Phil says evenly. 

“But -”

“No, Noah. My nephew showed up on my doorstep last night, after having walked across nearly the country, and you didn’t even bother to call to tell me he was missing. The one thing he said to me last night was that I couldn’t call you. So no, Noah. You don’t get to talk to him until Stiles wants to talk to you, do you understand?” Phil’s voice is implacable. 

“Okay.” Noah’s voice is resigned. “Okay. Just… is he okay?”

“He is alive, in one piece. That’s about it. Emotionally, physically, mentally? No, Noah he isn’t. What the hell happened? And what reason could you possibly have for not calling me?”

A shuddering sigh. “I don’t even know where to begin. It’s insane. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Do you remember Scott?” 

“Stiles’s best friend? Of course I do.”

“Two days after Stiles disappeared Scott came to me. He had a letter from Stiles. Said Stiles had asked him to give it to me before he left. It was…” Noah stops to clear his throat. His voice is still thick when he continues. “It was a suicide note. I tried to find him, tried to stop him but I couldn’t. He stopped using his card and then Nevada police found his car abandoned and… I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t. My boy could not be gone, not after everything. But no one believed me. It was only me holding out and …”

“That’s why you didn’t call me. Because if you told me, it would be real.” Phil says with dawning understanding. Clint still looks distrustful and Phil has to concur. “Noah... “ Phil says slowly. “You said it was you fault… what did you do?” 

“Has Stiles told you anything… about Beacon Hills?”

“No. He plans to, but hasn’t yet. He is afraid to. Stiles told me he needed to be brave enough to trust that we wouldn’t turn from him just like everyone else.”

Another hitch in Noah’s breathing. “Please Phil,” he begs, fervently enough to have Phil’s brows raising. “Please, when he tells you - believe him.” Tony’s head is cocked to the side as he listens, brows furrowed. 

“Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I trust him?”

“Because it will sounds insane. But it’s true. I know it is, but it took me too long to accept and I don’t think Stiles ever really forgave me for that. Another in a long list of things I need to atone for.” Noah sounds desperate.

“Noah, what the hell happened?” Phil demands again. 

“I’m sorry Phil.” Noah says, resigned. “You need to let Stiles tell you. You need to hear it from him. After he does I will tell you anything you want to know but I won’t now. He deserves to have you unbiased going in and I … well I have never been unbiased about this.”

“There is one thing I need you to answer now, Noah. Did you hurt Stiles?” Phil aks, dreading the answer.

“If I hadn’t, do you really think he would have left?” Noah replies bitterly, and he has a point. Stiles is one of the most insanely loyal people Phil has ever encountered. If he turned away from his dad, from his friends, they would have had to do it first… repeatedly. “I wasn’t hitting him.” Noah adds, and a tiny bit of the weight on Phil’s heart eases. “But you and I both know that is only one type of abuse. I fucked up Phil. I know I did. I don’t know if I deserve forgiveness, but please. Can you just tell Stiles that I love him, and I’m sorry, and I want him to come home?”

“No.” Phil says sharply. “I promised Stiles that he didn’t have to know what we talked about. If he asks I will tell him that you love him and are sorry, but he was terrified at the idea that you would make him come back. The one thing he has consistently told us is that he needed to leave and he can’t go back. I’m sorry, Noah, but I am here for Stiles, and I won’t change that because you ask me too.”

“I don’t want you to.” Noah says in a small voice. “My son deserves to have someone to fight for him for a change. Just keep him safe, please. Try… try and make him happy again. I can’t remember the last time I actually saw my son smile.”

Phil closes his eyes, fighting the tears that threaten. A hand on his arm calls his attention, and Tony hands him a note that says ‘legal guardian’ on it. Phil nods and clears his throat. “Noah, would you do something for me?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Will you sign the papers to make me Stiles’s legal guardian?”

A sharp inhale sounds. There is a brief pause. “If it will help.” Comes the sad reply. 

“I don’t want you to give up your rights, Noah. But I need the authority to help him while he is here and I think it could help Stiles to feel more secure here. I’ll send the papers to you in the morning.” Tony begins waving frantically to get his attention. When Phil looks he quickly writes ‘suicide note’. “And Noah? Could you send me the note Scott gave you as well? I have a feeling it is an important part of the story.”

“Yeah, of course.” Noah replies. 

“Alright, I should go. Noah- I will do everything in my power to protect Stiles and help him, you know that right?” Phil can’t help but add. 

“I know. I pray you do a better job than I did.” With that Noah hangs up the phone.

“Holy shit.” Clint says after a few moments of silence. 

Phil gives a slightly hysterical laugh. “Yeah. That.”

“Gotta admit,” Tony adds. “That did not go the way I anticipated.”

“Do you think the suicide note is real?” Clint asks cautiously.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Stiles didn’t give me any indication earlier that he thought his dad was under the impression that he was dead. He hasn’t asked us why we were surprised he wasn’t in a hole in the ground. He actually seemed hurt when he found out his dad hadn’t told me he was missing… missing - not dead. But why would Scott have the letter if Stiles didn’t give it to him? God I feel like this call only left us with more questions than answers. And I told Stiles he didn’t have to know anything about this call if he didn’t want to, so I don’t want to go ask him.” Phil runs a hand over his face, overwhelmed and exhausted. 

“Get some sleep, Phil.” Tony says quietly. “JARVIS is still working on gathering everything, and now he has some new things to look into. We don’t have to solve everything right away. Stiles is here, he is safe, he is provided for, he is cared for and he is working on being happy. Let’s just take a step back and appreciate that until we have something to work with okay?” 

“Yeah, thanks Tony.” Phil says. He is tired, and Tony is right - they have done everything they can do today and Stiles had actually laughed earlier so Phil was going to take this day as a win and deal with the rest later. He is more tired than he thought, Phil realizes, as Clint practically carries him upstairs and helps him through a quick shower before pouring him into bed. He has just enough awareness left to pull his partner close and whisper a fervent thank you before he surrenders to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some word from back in Beacon Hills, frustratingly vague as it may have been!
> 
> About Stiles's age - I have seen a lot of different ages and birthdays listed for Stiles, so I decided to just go with what I wanted. So he is still 17 at this point.
> 
> I have no idea how the legal process of becoming a legal guardian works... but I also don't think Tony would wait for the normal process... he definitely would get it done some ridiculous way.


	8. Well, I Know The Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, wonderful readers! :) 
> 
> I wanted to bring up a couple of points real quick before we get started. First, I do update the tags when I think something new has popped up, but if I miss something that you think needs tagged, please let me know!
> 
> Second, I am not a doctor (kinda like I am not a lawyer). I take liberties and make things up to suit my needs so hopefully no one gets offended by anything I write :)
> 
> Finally, the fun one ;) One of the comment last time brought up something I wanted to ask you guys... what should the pairing with Stiles be? I have a few ideas, but I wanted to get a feel for what you guys want - this story keeps coming because I am inspired by you all after all :) Obviously Stiles is not in a very healthy place to start a relationship right now, but this series will see him recovering and being ready to move on with his life.
> 
> A couple of things - I am cool writing gen if that's what you guys want. Like I said, Stiles is in a rough place and even when he moves forward, he might not meet anyone. However, as we are all fangirls at heart, I figure you guys want to see him fall in adorable, fluffy love. In that case, I do have some reservations. 
> 
> I will be honest - writing him with anyone from the main pack in Beacon Hills will be rough. My twisted canon in this story is so dark that I would be ... displeased putting poor Stiles in a relationship with any of them. There are some I could see - Danny, Jackson, and possibly Derek to name a couple. But, especially with Derek, it would be an EXTREMELY slow burn. Like glacier. This from the lady who has just brought you over 20,000 words dedicated to a single day in the life... But, I am not opposed. 
> 
> As for the avengers, I am cutting Phil and Clint and Tony and Pepper out of the running - they have their happily ever afters already. Any of the others could be fair game.
> 
> I also have an OC playing in the corners of my mind that I could bring in for Stiles. Could be male or female - I have the personality formed, the rest is flexible.
> 
> Sorry for rambling, but I wanted to get your opinions on this :)
> 
> Onto the story!

Stiles has long since become accustomed to waking up a certain way - drenched in sweat, shaking wildly, throat sore from screaming his way awake. 

This is different. He can feel the nightmare trying to drag him deeper, down to the point where he forgets it is a dream, that he has power, down to where he is overwhelmed and gives in before being wrenched awake. It doesn’t get the chance, however. Stiles is too busy focusing on the soft, soothing voice he can hear. He tries to follow it, the voice gradually getting louder until he realizes that it is coming from outside him, back in reality. With a deep breath and forces himself all the way out of his dream, blinking open his eyes to his dimly lit bedroom in Stark Tower. He slumps back against the pillows, focusing again on what brought him from from his dream. Closing his eyes, he feels his lips tilt up.

“JARVIS are you reading me The Hobbit?” Stiles asks, amused.

The vents huff in what almost sounds like relief. “Good morning Stiles. Pardon my intrusion. You were beginning to appear alarmingly distressed. I did not mean to overstep, but thought maybe just a calming voice could help. It helps when I read to Sir, and this is one of his favorites.”

“It’s one of mine too.” Stiles remarks quietly. “My mom and I used to read it together. She was an artist, you know? She made me mine own picture book version.” Stiles sinks into the memories for a moment, bittersweet as they are. “Hey JARVIS? Thank you. This is infinitely better than the way I normally wake up.” 

You are most welcome Stiles. If you like I can add this to your care subroutine for future reference.”

“You have a care subroutine for me?” Stiles asks, intrigued. While he was no master programmer, Danny had showed him a fair amount.

“I have a care subroutine for all the residents in the tower. It is my job to ensure the well being of the people inside the tower. I may have… adapted that guideline to include emotional well being in addition to physical.”

“I think it is nice that you care about everyone JARVIS. Go ahead and add that to my list or whatever. I’ll give you some more books to add as well… wouldn’t want you to get bored reading The Hobbit all the time. Oh, and JARVIS?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

“What Clint said yesterday? About the judgement call? That applies to me too. You actually do care, and you are smart enough to make good calls. I trust you to make them for me when you feel it’s important.”

“Thank you for your trust Stiles. I’ll do my best to remain worthy of it.” JARVIS responds solemnly.

“You know, I am actually starting to believe you guys are…” Stiles says slowly. Then, knowing better than to attempt to go back to sleep, Stiles sits up and swings his legs out of bed. “What time is it JARVIS?”

“4:37 am.”

“Huh, that’s more than I normally get.” Stiles says, standing and stretching. He heads into the bathroom and rinses off quickly before he throws on some of his new clothes and heads in search of coffee.

Stiles stares at the temperamental looking Mr. Coffee in the kitchen for a long moment. The thing looks older than Stiles and he would bet there were at least a couple of tricks required in order to get a standard cup of coffee out of it. Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, Stiles concedes defeat and decides to try his luck on the common floor. He freezes just outside the elevator when he realizes the floor is not empty like he imagined.

“Come on in, kid.” The gruff voice says quietly. “I won’t bite.”

Stiles snorts at the irony in that sentence, unintended though it was, and unglues his feet from the floor. “I don’t think you’re gonna bite me.” He counters. “I just didn’t want to bother you.” 

Bucky treats Stiles to an eyebrow that would put Derek to shame. “You don’t come to the common floor if you are looking for privacy. You come for company.”

“I came for coffee.” Stiles points to the pot Bucky must have started. 

“Fair enough.”

Stiles fills a mug for himself before cautiously lowering himself into the chair next to Bucky that the soldier hd kicked out for him. He hums in pleasure at the high-quality coffee. A moment later Stiles squawks in protest as Bucky reaches over and steal the mug from him.

Bucky silences him with another eyebrow and Stiles gets distracted wondering if there is like a school for eyebrows. Is it some sort of underground thing? Only those with impressive eyebrows get invited for a chance to strengthen their eyebrow game?

Stiles blinks back to reality when Bucky starts talking. “I understand food issues. I had my fair share. But Jesus, kid, you look like a stiff breeze will knock you right on your ass. If you can’t eat for whatever reason you should try getting your calories another way.”

Stiles watches as Bucky finishes doctoring his coffee with heavy cream and vanilla before he passes it back. Stiles eyes the mug dubiously and then looks at Bucky.

“Trust me?” Bucky requests quietly, voice and expression telling Stiles that Bucky is well aware of the momentous thing he is asking of Stiles. Stiles searches Bucky’s face for a minute before slowly nodding. Bucky inclines his head in acknowledgement and then breaks the moment before it can get too heavy. 

“Then drink the damn coffee.”

Stiles rolls his eyes before obediently taking a sip. “Whoa.”

“Told ya.” Bucky mutters into his own mug. Stiles ignores him in favor of drinking more. The drink is creamy and just sweet enough, the vanilla enough to compliment the rich coffee without being overwhelming. 

They drink their coffee silently for awhile. It is surprisingly nice to not be alone. Bucky seems content to sit there with him in silence, but eventually Stiles’s natural inclination to talk makes itself known. 

“Why are you up this early? Not that you have to tell me or anything.”

One side of Bucky’s lips tilt up. “Same reason you are I bet.”

“Oh… do you want to talk about it?” Stiles asks hesitantly. 

A real smile now stretches Bucky’s lips. “Nah, I’m alright kid. It’s ground I have already covered.” At Stiles’s confused look he continues. “Therapy. I have learned now to deal with most of my issues. Doesn’t keep the nightmares away, but I’m impacted less once I wake up.” Bucky pauses as if considering his next words. “You should consider it. It works if you can find the right help. A lot of the team has benefitted from it.”

Stiles laughs humorlessly. “If I told a therapist my problems I would be back in the nuthouse faster than you can say oops.” Stiles freezes when he realizes what he has just revealed.

But Bucky just tilts his head to the side as he considers Stiles. “You’d be surprised by the types of people we have access to.” He finally says cryptically. “Drink your coffee, kid.” 

They drink the remainder of their coffee in friendly silence. Stiles refills his mug and Bucky’s before passing them both to Bucky with a hopeful expression. Bucky snorts and begins fixing both mugs. Stiles takes a sip of his and hums happily before glancing at the clock.

“What time do people usually get up?” He asks Bucky.

“What, bored of me already?” Bucky replies with a disgruntled expression. The glint of humor in his eyes gives Stiles the courage to retort instead of apologize needlessly.

“Well you are not exactly a shining example of exceptional conversation skills, dude.” 

“Whatever you say, _bro_.” Bucky returns, deadpan.

“No. Just no. Please never say _bro_ again.” Stiles protests. 

“Then don’t call me dude.”

“Fine. What time do people usually get up, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky chokes on his coffee, spluttering and spraying the counter, as Stiles looks on wide-eyed. The choking quickly transforms into full laughter as Bucky turns to him. “You are a little shit, aren’t you? You’ll fit in just fine here, kid.” Bucky grins and accepts the towel Stiles hands him. Stiles shyly smiles back. “And for the record,” Bucky adds, wiping down the counter. “Just call me Bucky. To answer your question - it depends. Sam works at the VA nearby and has to leave about 8:00 on the days he works. Pepper is usually off to run the world around 7:30 or so. Stevie, Nat, Phil and Clint all go to SHIELD fairly regularly but when they leave depends on their schedule. I think all four of them have a meeting at 9:00 today, but who knows if any of them will actually go. Bruce and Tony don’t keep normal hours - they tend to wander in and out when they remember or someone forces them.”

Stiles blinks, processing that. “That’s the most I have heard you talk.” He admits.

Bucky snorts. “And you are a paradigm of words yourself.”

“I - I used to be.” Stiles admits quietly. “Used to be you couldn’t shut me up.” Bucky slowly reaches out and lays a hand on Stiles’s. Stiles shudders and squeezes the hand in thanks before releasing it and clearing his throat. “What about you?’’

“What about me?” Bucky replies, easily accepting the subject change.

“You told me what everyone else does, but not you. What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m still in recovery technically.” Bucky says with a shrug. “So I’ll help out if they need it in the field, but otherwise I just hang out. I go to therapy, sometimes work on Tony’s cars, whatever I find.”

“Huh, cool.”

“I’m living large alright.” Bucky remarks dryly. “Why’d you want to know about times anyway?”

“Oh, well I just thought I would make breakfast for everyone or something.”

Bucky gently grips Stiles’s chin and turns him to face Bucky. “You don’t have to earn your keep, you know that?” He asks, gruff voice serious.

“I wouldn’t feel right, just accepting you hospitality and not doing anything in return. Besides, I am already up and I like to cook.” Stiles pleads.

“Alright.” Bucky yields and Stiles slumps in relief. “Do you want some help? Cooking isn’t my forte, but I can follow directions well.”

“Sure. We can do a build your own omelette thing. Lay out the options, people select what they want, and then we make the omelette? That way everyone is happy and everyone gets fresh, warm food. Unless people don’t like omelettes. Not everyone-”

“Don’t overthink it, kid. Omelettes are good. JARVIS will let everyone know once they are up, right JARVIS?”

“Certainly, Sergeant Barnes. Sir is already up. He will be down shortly.”

Stiles jumps and nearly falls out of his chair in his scramble to get started. Bucky catches and rights him. “Slow down. Tony will wait if we aren’t ready.” Bucky assures him. Stiles takes a breath and nods before moving more sedately around the counter. Bucky follows and leans against the counter. 

Stiles begins to sort through the fridge. He pulls out anything he thinks people might like - vegetables, meats, cheeses - and passes them to Bucky without looking. He falters when Bucky casually comments, “You’re good at this. Providing for and accommodating large groups of people.”

As if. If only that were true. Stiles shrugs and continues sorting through the fridge. “Not really.”

“Yes you are.” Bucky counters, voice surprised. “You take into account people’s varying tastes and preferences and now you are planning for their varying schedules as well. I would not know where to begin thinking like that.”

Stiles pauses to consider. He can brush this off, get Bucky to back off, or he can take the leap and trust Bucky with this piece of him, just as he did with Bruce yesterday. Taking a fortifying breath, Stiles jumps. “I have practice. I used to do this back… uh, before.”

“Yeah?’ Bucky asks, encouraging but not pressing.

“That’s how I know it’s no big deal - was never enough for any of them.”

“Then they were ungrateful and undeserving.” Bucky says matter of fact. Then his voice softens. “Stiles, if they reacted like that - why did you keep doing it?”

Stiles turns to look at Bucky in surprise. “Because I had to. I needed to be useful somehow. I wasn’t in any other way, they made that clear, so I thought I could feed them, you know? I’ve known how to cook for a long time but it was just simple stuff for me and… and dad. So I can see how that wasn’t great at first. But I started working at it. I looked up recipes and asked different people to teach me. I thought I was starting to get better, but no one seemed to notice so I guess I wasn’t. Maybe eventually I would have… but I left before that. So you guys are kinda stuck with my skills. I will get better I promise.”

“Can I hug you?” Bucky asks, face carefully neutral.

Stiles frowns in confusion. “Uh, yeah, sure I guess.”

He has barely finished speaking before Bucky is wrapping him up in a firm hug. The Avengers are all really good huggers. Maybe Stiles will get lucky and get hugs from the rest in order to double check that theory. Then Bucky speaks. “Stiles, those people did not deserve you. You are incredible - brave, tenacious, selfless, determined, loyal, kind, smart… and if you were any better as a chef I think Steve would explode from overeating.”

Stiles swallows back tears and tries to ignore how he is now clinging to Bucky. “You don’t know me. You can’t say those things are true.”

“I don’t know you well yet, you’re right. But I want to. All of those thing are traits you have proven just in the time you have been here. It’s what makes me want to get to know you, to be your friend.”

“You won’t. Once you get to know me you won’t want to be my friend.” Stiles whispers. He can feel Bucky’s shrug. 

“You can’t know for sure until you tell me, but I doubt it. We all have our demons, kid. I would know. But we can’t pick our pasts. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

Stiles snorts and ends up laughing helplessly. “Did you just quote Lord of the Rings to me?” He asks, finally releasing Bucky.

“Gandalf is a genius.” Bucky argues. “Why waste perfectly good words?”

“Whatever you say, Aragorn.” Stiles says, swiping at his face. “Dammit, what is it with you guys and making me cry?”

“That’s the real secret.” Bucky whispers confidentially. “We win all our fights by making our opponents cry. They don’t air that part because it is not exciting enough.”

“Oh, obviously.” Stiles grins, turning back to the fridge and pulling out the last of the options. “Now are you born with that gift or is there a training or something?” He begins to chop the onion he found.

“Innate ability of course.” Bucky replies loftily, pulling a pepper out and beginning to chop it precisely. “Although I bet Tony could train you enough to get you through all but the toughest opponents.”

“Train him in what?” Tony asks, leaning over Stiles’s shoulder to investigate what he is doing. 

Stiles yelps and drops the knife, only Bucky’s fast reflexes stopping its journey towards their unprotected feet. “Jesus,” Stiles croaks. “How long have you been here?”

“Since now.” Tony replies, blinking at them innocently. “Did I miss the omelettes?”

“We haven’t started the omelettes.” Bucky says with a glare. “Sit down.” 

Tony does. “Yay. What am I training you in?” He asks Stiles. 

“Eviscerating people using only my words.”

“Goody, one of my favorite pastimes.” 

Stiles shakes his head and accepts the knife back from Bucky. “What would you like in your omelette?”

Tony eagerly points out items and Stiles carefully adds some of each to a bowl to be added to the omelette. Stiles is just plating the finished omelette and adding some of the fruit Bucky had sliced when Uncle Phil and Clint show up. 

“Hey there,” Uncle Phil says, pulling Stiles close as he passes and pressing a kiss to his temple before releasing him. “You’re up early. Nightmare?” Uncle Phil asks as Clint gives Stiles a sleepy hug. Stiles can feel himself nearly vibrating with happiness at all the contact he has already received today. Bucky smiles and hip checks him as he goes back to the counter.

“Yeah.” Stiles answers his uncle. "But don’t worry. JARVIS got to me before it was too bad. Best night’s sleep I have had in ages actually. What do you want in your omelettes?”

“Well that’s good, I guess.” Uncle Phil sounds bemused. He and Clint rattle off their orders and Bucky carefully portions the ingredients into two bowls.

“Yeah, JARVIS is the best.” Stiles adds, focused on Clint’s breakfast.

“Thank you, Stiles.” JARVIS says, voice amused.

“Welcome.” Stiles replies, dropping off Clint’s omelette.

“On that note, I have something for you.” Tony interjects, reaching out to stop Stiles as he passes. Stiles looks at him suspiciously. “What’s with the face?” Tony asks, incredulous. “I made it, not bought it so calm down, okay?”

Stiles nods and Tony pulls a horribly wrapped box out of his pocket. Stiles raises an eyebrow. “DUM-E insisted on wrapping it!” Tony defends. “He thinks all presents should be wrapped.” Stiles smiles and carefully unwraps the box. Inside is a brand new Starkphone. 

“I don’t think it counts as making it just because your name is on it.” Stiles says before his brain can catch up with his mouth. He can feel his unease rising as he calculates how much a phone like this might have cost.

“Whoa, ok. No. Rude. Calm down, kid, I swear I made this particular phone myself. JARVIS will verify, right J?” Tony says hurriedly. 

“It’s true, Stiles. Sir constructed the phone himself last night.” JARVIS assures.

“I am not sure that makes it better.” Stiles argues, but he can feel himself calming down, especially when Uncle Phil comes up behind him and puts his hands on Stiles’s shoulders. “This phone is worth a lot of money.”

“Actually, that phone isn’t on the market, so you can’t compare it to anything.” Tony replies smugly.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks hesitantly.

“I mean I put a bunch of special features on it that aren’t options I would make available to the general public. Also it’s made of scraps from one of my suits.” Tony holds up his hands to stall the protest Stiles is trying to form. “Scraps! I used scraps! I knew you wouldn’t like me spending money, so I used what I had on hand. And if there is one thing I always have on hand it is scraps from the suits! Okay?” 

Stiles nods slowly, somewhat placated.

“Good.” Tony sighs, relieved. “Besides, the suit makes an awesome phone. You could chuck that thing at a wall and it wouldn’t care. The wall might. Maybe don’t try it unless you want a hole in your wall.” Tony finishes thoughtfully. 

“You said you put in other functions as well. What did you add Tony?” Uncle Phil sounds resigned.

“Better than top of the line camera, panic button, universal translator, emergency taser mode-”

“Panic button?” Uncle Phil asks.

“Emergency taser mode?” Clint interjects.

“Like my own babelfish?” Stiles grins.

Tony looks between them and answers Stiles first. “Just like. Has nearly all the spoken languages and several not so spoken ones.”

“Vulcan?” Stiles asks.

“Points for not asking about Klingon.” Tony grins, delighted. “And yes, Vulcan is one of them. Actually Klingon is too, but that’s beside the point. Clint, emergency taser mode is exactly what it sounds like. Enough current to put someone down for a good long time without killing them. Figured it would give Stiles time to come up with a plan. Agent - the panic button has a few components to it. If Stiles presses it an alarm is triggered on all of our phones. Once the panic button is tripped, the phone starts recording everything it sees through the camera and hears through the microphone. It’ll transmit all that data along with a GPS location to us so we know what the situation is.”

“Wow. Thank you.” Stiles says earnestly.

“Thank you, Tony.” Uncle Phil repeats gratefully.

“You needed a phone kid. A way to be reached and to reach us when you aren’t in the tower. It has all of our numbers programmed in already. Oh, and I haven’t told you the best part.”

“What’s the best part?” Stiles asks.

“You also have JARVIS on your phone, isn’t that right J?” Tony announces gleefully.

“Indeed, Sir.” JARVIS’s voice comes from the speakers of the phones clutched in Stiles’s hand.

“Oh my god.” Stiles breathes. “That’s so cool. JARVIS can come with me anywhere.” 

“I thought you might like that. You guys seem rather taken with each other.” Tony laughs.

Stiles’s mind is whirling. “How does it work? Is JARVIS like a server somewhere? Is he based in the tower and then he just connects out to outliers like my phone and your suit? Or is there a tiny portion of JARVIS present in the phone? If he is connecting back to the tower what means is he using? Satelite? What happens if I go to a no service zone? Does JARVIS have no service zones? Do I lose JARVIS? Do I keep a tiny segmented portion of JARVIS cut off from the rest? What happens when I come back? If they have evolved separately are they now two separate entities? I - “ Stiles slaps a hand over his own mouth to cut off the ramble when he notices everyone watching him. He blushes furiously. “Sorry.” He squeaks.

“Nope, none of that.” Tony says gently. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Stiles whispers, looking at the floor. “Sometimes my mouth just starts going with my mind. I have been working at getting better, I know it’s annoying. I just got excited.” 

“Hey,” Tony says quietly. He gently bumps Stiles’s chin to get him to lift his face. “Do you want to come hang out in my lab after breakfast? I will answer whatever questions you can come up with. I even have some projects I think you could help me with.”

Stiles stares at him. He can’t really mean that can he? Why would someone like Tony Stark want Stiles hanging around bothering him? “Um, I wouldn’t want to bother you, Mr. Stark.”

Clint makes a noise like a strangled cat.

“First off, it’s Tony.” Tony ignores Clint’s triumphant “I told you!”. “And you wouldn’t be a bother.”

“I ask a lot of questions sometimes. And I have trouble focusing.” Stiles admits quietly. “I tend to jump topics a lot and get stuck on random tangents.”

“Sounds like Tony.” Bruce says as he enters the kitchen, followed by Nat and Sam. 

“How long have you been off your adderall?” Uncle Phil asks Stiles quietly. 

“I ran out just before I … left.” Stiles asks, hoping his uncle won’t force him back on. 

“I can get your prescription moved out here and get it filled for you.” Stiles can feel his face fall. He quickly ducks his head and nods. 

“Hey.” Bruce says quietly, moving to join their group. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Not important.” Stiles replies quickly.

“It’s upsetting you, so it is important.” Tony counters. 

They wait quietly, and Stiles squirms under their attention. “I don’t like it.” He finally admits.

“Don’t like the adderall?” Uncle Phil asks. Stiles nods. “Why?”

“It’s like my brain is numb. Yeah I get less distracted but it’s because it feels like a pillow on my brain. It makes me twitchy too. But I know I need it. People don’t like me without it keeping me under control.” Stiles shrugs.

“Who told you that?” Uncle Phil asks, voice tense.

“Everyone.” Stiles admits.

“Well that’s bullshit. We will just give you lots of things to keep your mind busy, how about that?” Tony says. “Like Brucie said, I am not very good at normal people thought processes. You and I can just see how we get on as lab buddies, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks, hopefully.

“I am.” Tony’s voice is serious.

“Then I would like that.” Stiles admits.

“Awesome. After breakfast it’s you and me buddy boy.” Tony spins back to his breakfast and begins shoving fruit into his mouth.

Stiles hurrys over to Bucky. He has pulled out the ingredients for everyone else’s breakfasts, but hasn’t started the omelettes. “Like I said, I can follow directions but that’s about it. Figured I’d leave this bit to you.” Stiles nods and starts constructing the omelettes.

“Where is Steve?” Stiles asks as he gives Pepper her omelette. “He is the only one that hasn’t eaten.” 

“He left early.” Sam replies. “Said something about meeting with Fitzsimmons before your meeting with Fury.”

“Speaking of,” Uncle Phil says. “Stiles, I was supposed to go to the helicarrier for a meeting this morning. I can cancel if you want me to.” 

“No, that’s okay Uncle Phil.” Stiles assures him. “I will be fine here.”

“I’ll keep him busy.” Tony pipes up.

“That is terrifying.” Uncle Phil mutters. “If that’s fine than we should get going before we are late.” 

Everyone begins to disperse. Uncle Phil and Clint give Stiles quick hugs before leaving with Nat. Sam and Pepper wave goodbye and head out too. Stiles begins to clean up the plates, but Bucky takes them from him. “Go on. I’ll take care of these.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks.

“Go have fun.” Bucky smiles. “Try not to blow up too many things.”

“Ready, kid?” Tony asks, coming up and throwing an arm around Stiles’s shoulders. “You coming Bruce?”

“If you both don’t mind.”

“I never say no to another science buddy. What do you think Stiles?” 

“Please come, Bruce.” 

Stiles twists around to wave at Bucky as Tony pulls him into the elevator, an amused Bruce following behind. Stiles sees Bucky shaking his head with a grin before the doors close. “So,” Tony asks grandly. “You ready to visit Candyland?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments bring me joy :)
> 
> Don't forget to put in your two cents about the pairing if you have an opinion!


	9. Laid Out On The Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the response from you all is insane! I am so glad you are all so invested in this :)
> 
> Here comes a novel in the form of notes so if you could care less, feel free to skip ahead to the story haha.
> 
> After going through your comments, there are a couple of clarifications I wanted to make. This installment of the series is definitely going to remain gen and focused on family. As I mentioned, Stiles is just not in a place to be thinking about a relationship.
> 
> I wanted to get a feel for your opinions because I am planning this as a _series_. As time progresses will heal and grow and a relationship may be part of that. It's good to have an idea for the pairing now though, because I need to not screw that up somehow. Like if I want Stiles to end up with Bucky, just Bucky, than Bucky can't be with Steve unless I plan a future breakup... :(
> 
> Having said that, sometimes the story takes shape all on its own, growing in ways I can't imagine right now but that _work_. For instance, I had originally planned for it to be Bruce in the kitchen in the last chapter. When I sat down to write, however, Bucky just kicked his way through the door and went "Boom bitch, I'm here." He took over that scene and I adore the way it came out. 
> 
> Moral of the story - I like the idea of having an idea where this is heading relationship wise but I am not locking myself in ;) I cannot make everyone's hopes for the pairing work unless some giant polyamorous thing occurs which... seems unlikely haha. I hope you all like the direction it ends up going!!
> 
> Oh and by the way - Peter Parker is definitely going to be making an appearance at some point. The pure snarky chaos that will arise from Peter and Stiles being in the same room is too good to pass up. Not to mention that Peter is an adorable cinnamon bun that would be ridiculously good for Stiles in any capacity.
> 
> Last note before I stop yammering at you. I try to reply to all the comments on my stories. However sometimes the choice comes down to replying to comments or posting new content and content usually wins out. Just know that I adore every single comment I receive and will get around to answering them when I have time to both write and comment... probably over the weekend.
> 
> Love you all, you are the best - on with the story!!

The doors open and Stiles has to stop himself from darting forward into the lab. Tony must feel it through the arm he still has over Stiles’s shoulders because he chuckles and gives him a quick squeeze. “I know. But wait just a minute alright?” Stiles nods and laces his fingers together to keep from trying to touch.

“JARVIS take note - Stiles has level 2 access as of now. I may up it to level 3 depending on how we click as lab buddies.” Tony announces as he pushes through the secondary door and into the lab proper.

“Level 2?” Stiles asks, attempting to see everything at once.

“All of the Avengers have have level 1 access. Means that unless I have put the lab into do-not-disturb mode or something they can come in and control a lot of the environmental type stuff - turn the lights on and off, adjust the music volume, that kind of thing.” He pauses and Stiles nods his understanding. “Level 2 is what you and Pepper have. You can break through the simple do-not-disturb and you can actually read most of the files and stuff. Great for exploring but not much you can actually do. Level 3 is what Bruce has and what you will get if you stick around. He essentially has free rein to play.”

“So sorta like authorities on a computer? I have read-only access and Bruce has both read and write access?” Stiles asks.

Tony blinks. “Yeah that is a good way to put it actually.”

“Cool.” Stiles says, trying to examine a blueprint on the table next to him.

“Hey.” Tony snaps his fingers in front of Stiles’s face. Stiles startles and turns wide eyes on Tony. “You need to meet the bots, kid. Then I’ll set you loose.”

Stiles’s attention is now fully on Tony. “Bots?” He repeats with barely concealed excitement. Bruce smiles at his enthusiasm as Tony turns and whistles deeper into the lab.

“Come on guys. Come say hi to Stiles.” Tony calls. Three robots come creeping shyly out to where Stiles is standing. Stiles waves. “This is Butterfingers, You and that one over there is DUM-E.”

“Hi guys. It’s nice to meet you.” Stiles scoots closer to DUM-E. “I hear you are the one to thank for my present being wrapped.” DUM-E nods his arm up and down excitedly. “It was lovely, thank you.” Stiles laughs. DUM-E reaches out to gently grasp Stiles’s shirt and begins tugging. Stiles steps closer and DUM-E trills in excitement and rolls farther away. “You want me to go with you?” Stiles asks. DUM-E nods again, making Stiles’s shirt flap. Stiles laughs and looks to Tony for permission.

“No idea what he wants to show you.” Tony warns. “But go, be free, run wild, whatever. Explore. Ask whatever you want - Bruce, JARVIS or I will try to answer anything. If you get bored exploring aimlessly, JARVIS has a list of simpler tasks I have been meaning to do. You can try your hand with some of those. JARVIS - give Stiles access to whatever he needs to complete those if he wants to.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Stiles grins and follows DUM-E deeper into the lab. DUM-E leads him to one corner and releases Stiles in order to pick up a slightly singed box. He offers the box to Stiles, who takes it carefully. “What is it?” He asks the robot. DUM-E opens the lid on the case and Stiles glances in. Inside are a variety of odds and ends - a shiny piece of some material, a tiny action figure, a bouncy ball, things like that. 

Understanding strikes. “Are these your presents, DUM-E?” He asks quietly DUM-E trills and nods. “They are beautiful. Thank you for showing me.” Stiles says. DUM-E pokes carefully through the box before pulling out a tiny toy car. The robot gently nudges Stiles’s hand until he opens it and lets DUM-E drop the toy into his palm. DUM-E gently nudges his fingers closed and waits. “For me?” Stiles asks hesitantly. DUM-E nods. “Thank you.” DUM-E takes the box back from Stiles and returns it to its place. 

Stiles examines the toy car. It is a garish green color, slightly beat up and missing a wheel. Stiles thinks it is his new favorite possession. He pockets it, determined to bring the little robot a present when he comes back. 

DUM-E seems happy enough to let Stiles explore now. He quickly gets lost in everything, flitting about as his interests take him. Bruce, Tony and JARVIS answer every random question he asks, and Stiles thrills in the new knowledge. Stiles is working on one of the projects from Tony’s list - a tiny, delicate circuit board that requires all of his focus - when the music suddenly cuts off. Blinking in surprise, Stiles straightens and winces as his back pop painfully as it unclenches from his hunched position.

Bucky is standing just inside the lab, shaking his head. “Alright,” he says, “time to get out of the lab.”

“No!” Stiles protests quickly. “I’m having fun. It’s only been a few hours. Can’t I hang out a little longer?”

“Of course you can. You are welcome whenever. Oh yeah -JARVIS up Stiles to level 3 access.” Tony answers, disappearing back into the tangle of parts in front of him. 

“Stiles, it hasn’t been a few hours… it’s been eight.” Bucky says with amusement. “I brought you lunch over three hours ago.” He points.

Stiles glances down to the table next to him. A plate with the remains of a mostly eaten sandwich and fruit sits there. He blinks at it in confusion. He had forgotten about that. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Bucky says, shaking his head with a wry smile. “And I warned you I would be back to drag you out in a few hours. You shouldn’t sit in the lab all day. It’s too late for those two,” he adds with a gesture to Tony and Bruce who are ignoring him completely, “but I haven’t given up on you, yet.”

“Uh,” Stiles looks down at his half-finished project.

“Leave it.” Comes Tony’s voice. “You can finish it later.”

“Okay.” Stiles stands and stretches. “Thank you, Tony. And you too Bruce. I had so much fun.”

“No problem, kid.”

“You’re welcome, Stiles.” Bruce says, glancing up from the hologram he is playing with. “You have level 2 access to my lab now. I will give you level 3 once we go over some of the hazards there.”

“Thank you!” Stiles grins, moving towards where Bucky is waiting.

“You want to go to the gym?” Bucky asks as they climb into the elevator.

“Okay.” Stiles shrugs before glancing down at his jeans. “I, uh, don’t have anything to wear.” He adds.

“Whoops. That was a bit of an oversight on your shopping trip, wasn’t it? Don’t worry, we have a collection of spare clothing on the gym floor. I’m sure we can find you something.” Bucky assures him. “Steve is back from SHIELD. He might join if that’s alright?”

“It’s his gym too.” Stiles remarks.

“Yes, but he can use it later.” Bucky says patiently.

“Oh. I don’t mind if he’s there… I don’t have to like fight him or anything right? Or you for that matter?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Hard pass.”

Bucky laughs. “Alright then. What do you want to do?”

“Can we do the obstacle course?”

“Sure.” Bucky guides Stiles to the closet where the spare clothes are kept. Stiles searches through and finds a pair of sweatpants that will work. Despite looking twice, however, he can’t find a single long sleeve option.

“Here.” Bucky says. Stiles turns to see him holding out a hoodie. Stiles looks up in surprise. “You have worn long sleeves since you’ve been here, and you have looked through that pile twice when you could just wear the t-shirt you are wearing.” Bucky explains softly. “Go change. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Stiles hurries into the locker room. He locks himself in a stall and changes quickly. He neatly fold his clothes and places them in one of the available lockers before going back out to meet Bucky. 

Steve is there when he walks out. He smiles when he sees Stiles. “Hi Stiles. Buck says you want to try the obstacle course?”

“Yeah.” Stiles replies quietly. “Uncle Phil said I could only do it if I had someone with me and since you’re both here…”

“I think you’ll enjoy it.” Steve says. “It’s fun.”

Steve sets the course to its easiest setting while Bucky explains what Stiles is supposed to do. It honestly reminds Stiles of Ninja Warrior and he can’t wait to try it. Finally Steve gives him the go ahead and Stiles runs into the course.

It is fun. 

It is also ridiculously hard, and Stiles barely manages to finish the course before he collapses to the floor. “That… was the… easy… setting??” He demands between wheezes.

Bucky appears upside down over him. “Easy for a group of superheros.” He corrects. “I can’t believe you finished it.”

“That was really good.” Steve agrees. “You are really agile. Not to mention strong.” 

“Did you miss... me dying... over here?” Stiles asks incredulously. 

“No, Bucky is right. Tony designed the course for us - a supersoldier, a demi-god, and two master spies. Most people can’t do the things you just did.” Steve insists, reaching down a hand to haul Stiles to his feet. 

“I’ve had practice at running through… strange environment.” Stiles explains hesitantly. 

Steve considers that for a moment. Stiles can feel Bucky studying him again. Then Steve shrugs. “If you keep running the course, you will be moving up in difficulty in no time. Are you interested in anything else? We could all teach you some self defense if you want. Figure out whose style fits you best and have them keep training you? Or we could try the range, maybe? Would your uncle kill me if I tried to put you on the range?”

“Yes.” Uncle Phil says from the doorway. “Bucky, Clint or Nat, however, I would be fine with.”

“Hey!” Steve pouts and Stiles blinks, images of another pleading, puppy eyed look eclipsing his vision for a moment. He sucks in a shuddering breath and closes his eyes, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Stiles?” Uncle Phil asks softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Stiles steps forward and presses his forehead into his uncle’s shoulder. 

“Yeah.” He answers. “I’m tired. My head hurts.” 

“Part of that is probably from spending so much time staring at things in the lab. That and you haven’t eaten in awhile.” Bucky interjects gently.

“How long were you in the lab?” Uncle Phil asks, resigned.

“Um, from when you left until Bucky brought me here?”

“About 45 minutes ago.” Bucky supplies. “I brought all three of them lunch at one point so he has had some food, but it was a bit ago.”

“Oh good, another one.” Uncle Phil says, reluctant humor in his voice. “I am going to nip this in the bud. Stiles? I am glad you liked being in Tony’s lab and I think you should continue spending time there if you like, but I’m limiting it to 5 hours, okay?”

Stiles whines in protest.

“Sorry. And that is total lab time - no spending 5 hours in Tony’s lab and then moving to Bruce’s for another 5 hours.” 

Stiles grumbles complaints that end up muffled in Uncle Phil’s shoulder.

“Yep, I am the worst.” His uncle says, amused. “JARVIS, I hope you will help enforce this?”

“Of course, Agent Coulson.”

“Traitor.”

“Apologies, Stiles. However, I agree with Agent Coulson. I am making a judgement call.” The AI supplies.

Stiles makes a face.

“We’ll help too, Phil.” Steve adds. “Who ever is home can go drag him out if need be.”

“Why do you all hate me?” 

“It’s in the job description, kid.” Bucky answers. Stiles would bet his shoe that the soldier was smirking right now. “Gotta take the fun out of everything.”

“You can do whatever you want with the rest of your time, Stiles.” Uncle Phil encourages. “You can come back to the gym, go to the theater room, hang out in my library.” 

Stiles perks up at that. He had forgotten about all the other exciting things in the tower in his awe at the lab. And the gym had been fun. “Okay.” He concedes, pulling back from his uncle.

“Come on.” Uncle Phil tells them. “Clint is ordering Thai. You should have time to go get cleaned up before it arrives.”

“Sounds good.” Steve says, heading to the elevator. 

“I’m gonna grab my clothes.” Stiles says, gesturing toward the locker room.

“Go on. We’ll wait.” Uncle Phil assures him, Bucky nodding in agreement. 

Stiles hurries to gather his things. Today had been a really good day. He had enjoyed spending time with everyone, and the resources in the tower provided near unholy levels of entertainment. The sour, jagged thought snuck up that he could still lose it all. That one good day didn’t matter in the face of everything he had done. That once they learned the truth, none of this would be his anymore. Stiles leaned against the locker for a moment and just breathed. He managed to push away the thought. If he did lose it, at least he would have the opportunity to enjoy it first. He grabbed his stuff and went back out to meet Bucky and Uncle Phil.

Stiles showered once they reached the apartment, the jets and warm water soothing his aching muscles. Between sitting in the lab all day and the obstacle course Stiles was sore. It felt good though, proving he had actually done something today. JARVIS gave him a quiet ten minute warning and Stiles reluctantly turned off the water. He pulled on the clothes he was wearing earlier, and headed out into the living room where Uncle Phil was waiting. 

His uncle takes one look at his pinched face and asks, concerned, “ Do you want some painkillers?”

“Um, yeah. My head hurts.” Stiles agrees. 

“Looks like it.” Uncle Phil agrees, disappearing out of the room momentarily before returning with pills and a glass of water. “This is part of why I want to limit your lab time.”

“It’s okay Uncle Phil.” Stiles says. “I understand. I just like it - they answered my questions and never told me to stop or go away or anything.”

His uncle’s face turns sad. “No one here is ever going to say things like that to you. And just because you are limited in lab time does not mean you are limited in question time. I am sure none of the team would mind answering questions if they know the answer.”

“I am happy to answer your questions whenever you desire, Stiles.” JARVIS adds.

Stiles brightens somewhat at that. “Really? Okay.”

Uncle Phil smiles. “Ready for some dinner?” 

“Yeah, I’m hungry.” Stiles nods, moving toward the elevator.

“Good.” His uncle replies. “Because I am fairly certain that Clint ordered an ungodly amount of Thai food.”

Clint had, indeed, ordered an insane amount of Thai food.

“Um… are we having a party or something?” Stiles asks, staring at the table groaning under the weight of the containers.

“No.” Bucky answers, eyeing the table warily. “Clint just has no concept of how much food comes from the restaurant.”

“Unfair.” Clint protests. “Thai makes great leftovers. We don’t have to eat it all today. I am supplying lunch tomorrow as well!”

“The man has a point.” Sam concedes. “Why don’t we start while the food is still warm? The others will be here soon enough.”

“You just want to snag all the tom kha kai before Bruce gets here.” Natasha accuses. 

Sam raises his hands innocently but winks at Stiles as soon as Natasha looks away. Stiles smiles and begins to poke through the containers to see what else Clint got. “He just orders the whole menu.” Sam mutters confidentially, coming up next to Stiles. “I am not entirely sure he knows what the dishes are, so he orders everything in order to get what he wants.” 

Stiles glances up at Clint who is grinning and talking to Pepper. “You know, that actually wouldn’t surprise me.” He admits. Sam chuckles and grabs a plastic container off the table. He grabs a spoon and offers Stiles a taste. Stiles accepts and then grimaces at the too sour flavor. 

Sam shrugs and digs in. “More for me.” He says with a grin. 

Once the others notice Sam is eating, they start picking through the containers themselves. Tony and Bruce are the last to wander in and Bruce gives Sam a disgruntled look when he find the nearly empty container in Sam’s hand. Natasha pulls another one from… somewhere and Bruce hurries over to grab it. Dinner devolves into everyone eating out of containers and perched wherever they can find, given that the table is out of commission. 

Eventually the noise and atmosphere of a caring, happy family gets to be too much for Stiles and he quietly excuses himself. He retreats back to the apartment and ends up in the library. Stiles takes in the soothing smell of books as he slowly walks along the shelves. 

“JARVIS?” He asks. 

“Yes, Stiles?”

“Do you think people deserve second chances?”

“I think everyone deserves a second chance. And I think that certain people - the ones that keep trying to do the right thing, trying even when it is hard, when everything is against them, when they struggle and fail - those people deserve infinite chances.” JARVIS replies softly.

Tears pool in Stiles’s eyes. “But how do you determine who those people are?”

“They are the ones who keep fighting when everyone else has turned away.”

Stiles sobs, dropping to the floor and burying this face in his knees. JARVIS doesn’t speak, but a soft, painfully beautiful piano melody drifts through the room, reminding him that he is not alone.


	10. Because You're Not Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay - work has been beyond brutal the last couple days... like lock myself in my office and cry type of days. I know this chapter is on the short side, but it really is like an interlude almost before the next main chapter I have planned. It's important which is why I kept it, but I feel bad giving you a short chapter after making you wait.
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

Phil and Steve are packing up the remains of the Thai food when Steve asks thoughtfully, “Does Stiles play any sports?”

Phil chuckles fondly. “He always wanted to play lacrosse, it’s the popular game at his high school. He was on the team but rode the bench exclusively from what I’ve heard. His best friend Scott was the same way. They still tried though. Actually - I think I remember Stiles telling me on the phone that Scott had made first line.”

“You’re kidding.” Steve says, surprised.

“No.” Phil laughs. “Poor kid always had trouble managing all his limbs. He used to get hurt so often under his own power that the elementary school teachers would have a box of bandaids reserved for Stiles. Why?”

“That doesn’t fit with what we saw today.” Steve explains, brow furrowed. “Right Bucky?”

Bucky nods. “JARVIS can you pull up the footage from Stiles’s run through the obstacle course?”

“He tried the course?” Phil asks.

“I have put the footage on the TV.” JARVIS answers. Everyone heads over to settle on the couches, intrigued. Intrigue turns to confusion and disbelief for Phil as the footage rolls. 

“He finished the course.” Phil comments blankly.

“Phil,” Steve replies in a tone that means what he is going to say next is significant, “I set the course up right before he ran it. Bucky gave him minimal instructions. Stiles completed the course on his first attempt.”

“He adapts rapidly.” Bucky adds. “JARVIS can you roll it back to just before he transitions off the rings… yeah, right there. Watch. He gets himself completely turned around. I don’t think I could have worked my way out of there and yet you can see him evaluate everything and figure a way out.” 

“Kid’s sharp.” Tony agrees. “He was making connections neither Bruce or I had. Damn kid found and _fixed_ the issue I have been having with the new filtration system just by chatting with JARVIS. I have been banging my head against a wall for a week trying to solve that and Stiles nailed it in an hour.”

“He’s always been smart.” Phil says, trying to process. “Excellent grades even with the ADHD. The physical aspect, though - that’s definitely new.”

“I know something that might be related but I also don’t want to tell you because I am pretty sure you’ll all disapprove.” Clint says nervously.

“This have anything to do with the fact that Stiles has been armed this entire time?” Bucky asks.

“What.” Phil demands, sitting upright. “How did I miss that?”

“You weren’t looking for it.” Natasha says. “You expected him to be unarmed so you overlooked the clues that told us.”

“I guess it’s good he had something to defend himself with on his trip out here.” Phil says dazedly.

“Uh, about that.” Clint interjects sheepishly. “He didn’t. I’m the one that gave him the knife.”

Phil squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why did you give my nephew a knife?”

“It was when I found him. He was understandably and justifiably wary of a stranger offering to bring him inside their house. So I gave him the knife as insurance. He is a scared teenager - I was pretty sure he couldn’t do that much damage anyway but he would feel better.” Clint explains hurriedly. “He tried to give it back the next morning, but I told him to keep it because he felt safer with it. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. If he feels safer that way than it;s good he has it, though I hate to think of the implications of that.” Phil sighs.

“You’ll like this even less than.” Clint says apologetically. “He was comfortable handling it, Phil. It’s not the first time he has felt the need for a weapon.”

“If I didn’t know better,” Sam remarks slowly, “I would swear this kid was in a warzone.”

Phil looks at him for a minute before closing his eyes. “What the hell happened to Beacon Hills?” He groans before opening his eyes. “It doesn’t change anything as far as I am concerned. Stiles needs our help and needs us to respect his privacy.”

The others nod agreement and Phil smiles. “I actually have some good news on that front. I talked to my brother last night. I am not thrilled about the conversation, but something good came out of it at least. The paperwork was filed today. I am now Stiles’s legal guardian.”

“Congratulations!”

“That’s great, Phil.”

“This will be good for both of you.”

Most of the others crowd around offering their congratulations. Tony and Bruce hang back, as they had given theirs earlier. Natasha also hangs back, quiet.

“Can we protect him?” She asks. Her voice is quiet but cuts through the noise of the others. “This life we lead, it’s not safe. Not for us, not for the ones we love. That is why you hid him in the first place, is it not? He is so young, he should have a chance to live a different life.”

“He is not that young.” Clint speaks before Phil can. “I mean he is young, and we have been calling him kid but realistically? He is closer in age to Steve and Bucky than the rest of us are. And you know better than me the look of someone whose childhood was ripped away.” 

Natasha looks away.

“He’s right.” Steve says. “Buck and I served with a lot of guys his age.”

“I served with guys about his age.” Sam adds.

“Natasha.” Phil says and waits for her to look at him. “Why now? Why not mention this yesterday when we asked if he could stay?”

“He was still secret. Now there is proof. There is paperwork, easily found, that tells others that he is important to you and, by extension, us. We made him a target. He is not safe anymore. We’ll have to teach him to protect himself. He’ll get sucked into this life.”

“He wasn’t safe at home, Natasha. I hid him and his father, hoping to protect them. I always had to watch my contact with them to prevent the very thing you are afraid of. And it didn’t work. I still don’t know what happened to him but I have enough evidence to know that he was very much not safe. We care. We will protect him. From what Stiles has said, no one back in California was willing to do that. So he may not be safe here- but he is _safer_. I will do everything in my power to protect him and give him the type of life he deserves.” Various nods from the others. “As for him being sucked into this life… he was already brought into something. And for as long as I can remember Stiles has wanted to go into law enforcement. We won’t drag him in, but I am not about to try and stop Stiles if it is something he truly wants.”

Natasha inclines her head. Phil knows she doesn’t agree but respects him enough to think about what he is saying. Phil also has to acknowledge the legitimacy of her concerns. HE shares most of them, but can’t fight the conviction that Stiles is better off here with them than he would be anywhere else.

“I haven’t told Stiles yet.” Phil says, remembering how much of a group of gossips this team is. “So don’t say anything.”

“Are you going to tell him tonight?” Sam asks.

“No. I don’t know when I am going to. I think it would help him feel secure in his place here, but I’m afraid he will see this as another way his dad is giving up on him. I need to make sure he is in the right place to hear it.”

“That’s fair.” Sam nods. “Just let us know when you do tell him?”

“Of course.” Phil says.

“Come on.” Steve says, standing and holding a hand down to Natasha. “Let’s go spar. I didn’t actually get to work out earlier.” Natasha accepts the hand and lets Steve pull her to her feet.

“Are you sure you want to do that, Steve? Didn’t you just eat your weight in Thai food?” Bucky groans, though he rolls to his feet.

“Yeah, ya jerk. So now I have _energy_.” Steve makes a face at Bucky. “You coming, Sammy?”

Sam waves them off. “Definitely not. I have no desire to lose my dinner all over the mat.”

Steve scrunches up his nose in disgust. Bucky laughs and throws an arm over both Steve and Natasha’s shoulders, steering them towards the elevator. “Come on. I bet you ten dollars and Clint’s left shoe that Natasha pins you in five minutes or less.”

“Wha - Hey!” Clint exclaims. Bucky’s laughter rings out just before the elevator doors close.

“Well boys,” Pepper stands and stretches as she turns to Sam and Bruce. “Shall we head out and let these three talk privately?”

Phil shakes his head ruefully when she sends him a wink. Sam and Bruce both stand. 

“Can I interest you in a movie, fair lady?” Sam asks, offering his arm and bowing slightly like a courtier of old. Pepper laughs delightedly and places her hand on Sam’s arm. 

“That would be most agreeable, kind sir.” She replies in kind. “You want to join us, Bruce?” She adds in a normal tone.

“No thank you.” Bruce declines with a fond smile. “Stiles got me thinking earlier. I have something I want to check out.”

“Try not to stay in the lab too late.” Phil calls as the three climb into the elevator.

“Should I be concerned?” Tony asks, eyeing Sam doubtfully.

“If Pepper’s stuck with you this long, I think you’re safe.” Clint replies, amused.

“Pep’s a loyal one alright.” Tony says softly before turning serious. “Do you want to know what I’ve found?”

Phil hesitates. “I don’t know.”

Both Tony and Clint turn to stare at him. “Phil?” Clint asks, taking his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Phil shakes his head quickly. “Nothing is wrong, per say.”

“I thought you wanted answers.” Tony says, confused.

“I do.” Phil says. “You know how much I do. It’s just - I have been thinking. About what Noah said. And what Stiles told me.”

“Oh.” Tony says with dawning understanding. “You want to let Stiles tell you the story. You don’t want to be biased by an incomplete data set.” 

“Exactly. He deserves that from me.” Phil says.

“Will you be able to manage?” Clint asks seriously. “We don’t know when - or if - Stiles will actually be comfortable enough to tell us. You are great at an unfair amount of things, but ignoring possibly important information is definitely not one of them.”

“I know.” Phil shrugs. “I want to try and do this. Tony has the information - it’s not going anywhere. If I really can’t handle it I can always ask him later. But it’s for Stiles. I can do this.”

“If you’re sure.” Clint replies.

“I am.”

“Then we wait for Stiles.” Tony concludes.


	11. And You're Not Sure You Can Take This Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! You get a second chapter today :)

The next week follows the pattern of that first full day at the tower. JARVIS reads Stiles awake once his nightmares attempt to take hold. Stiles gets up, gets dressed and heads to the common floor for coffee.

Clint wasn’t kidding. Nearly everyday Stiles joins or is joined by someone else that can’t sleep. Regardless, Stiles will make breakfast and feed the Avengers before they go on their way.

After breakfast Stiles heads to either Bruce or Tony’s lab. If he goes to Tony’s, Stiles makes sure to bring a present for DUM-E - a keychain from his backpack, a sketch of a robot, an origami elephant. The little robot is thrilled and carefully puts each one in his box after zooming around Stiles in excitement.

Stiles works his way through several of the projects on Tony’s list and helps Bruce set up several experiments he has been meaning to run. Stiles thrills at the challenges he finds in the labs. Inevitably his five hours is over. JARVIS will shut down whatever he can, and someone will show up to haul Stiles out of the lab.

He spends time with everyone else in the afternoons. He plays video games with Sam, goes to the gym with Steve and Natasha spends an afternoon teaching him how to make a complicated Russian dish she remembers from her childhood. 

They have a family dinner every night that week, though Stiles only cooks twice more - once with Natasha and once with Bucky assisting. The others take turns providing dinner, ordering takeout if they can’t cook themselves. After dinner Stiles excuses himself and spends the rest of the evening in the library.

Everyday he grows more comfortable and relaxed with the Avengers. He is more and more pleased that his instincts lead him here.

And everyday the urge to confess, to tell these amazing people that have opened their home and welcome him just what he’s done, grows as well.

Then, on the ninth morning of his stay in the tower, Stiles walks onto the common floor and finds someone new. 

The man is huge, tall and muscular. His long blonde hair drapes over the red cape he has on over a chest plate. Stiles has never met him, but there is no doubt in his mind that this is Thor. Before he can say anything, Thor turns and spots him.

“Who are you?” Thor asks, his hammer flying into his hand.

“I-I’m Stiles.” Stiles whispers nervously.

“Is that supposed to have meaning to me?” Thor asks, eyes narrowing. 

“Thor, if I -” JARVIS attempts before Thor cuts him off.

“Be silent JARVIS, I will handle the intruder.” Thor waves the signal to mute JARVIS.

Intruder? Stiles realizes with an icy flash that Thor thinks he has broken in. “N-no-no, I’m not - I didn’t-” He can’t get the words past the horror choking his throat.

“How did you gain access to these accommodations?” Thor asks menacingly, advancing on Stiles. 

Stiles scrambles away, nearly tripping himself as he tries to get to the elevator. “Wait - I’m not -” Stiles reaches the elevator but the doors won’t open. “JARVIS.” He pleads.

“Hold on, Stiles.” JARVIS’s voice comes from his pocket where his cell phone sits. “Help is coming. Try to tell him about Phil.” The AI coaxes, anxiety lacing his voice.

“You will answer me.” Thor demands as he grabs Stiles’s shoulder and spins him around. Stiles’s mind goes blank with panic when Thor pins him against the elevator doors with a hand at his throat. He scrambles at the massive hand, barely hearing JARVIS’s increasingly urgent bids for attention.

After what feels like minutes but must be closer to seconds, the elevator chimes and the doors open. Stiles falls back away from Thor. Arms catch him before he can hit the floor and Stiles panics before recognizing the gleaming metal arm. With a sob he throws himself into Bucky’s arms, shaking wildly. 

“Thor, stop!” Bucky yells, twisting to put his body between Thor and Stiles when Stiles refuses to let go and be pushed behind the soldier. 

“James? You know this man?” Thor stops moving forward, but has yet to release the hammer. 

“Yes! This is Phil’s nephew for fuck’s sake.” Bucky snaps. Stiles cringes, still sobbing and the arm Bucky has wrapped around him tightens. 

“He is family to Son of Coul?” Stiles would have said Thor sounds horrified now if that wasn’t so far fetched. 

A sudden metallic thump startles Stiles and signals Tony’s arrival. “Thor, buddy, why don’t you step away from the elevator now? Buckaroo if you and Stiles move either in or out of the elevator that would be helpful… there are a lot of people who want to get to this floor now. Oh and JARVIS come on back.” 

Bucky doesn’t ask, just pulls Stiles into the elevator with him. Stiles slumps when the doors close and his shaking increases. “Fuck, Stiles are you ok? Did he hurt you?” 

Stiles can’t quite manage an answer before the doors of the elevator open again and he hears his uncle’s voice.

“Stiles!” 

A fresh wave of tears hits, and Stiles reaches out to the sound. He refuses to let go of Bucky however, and soon he is tucked safe between Uncle Phil, Bucky and Clint. Secure in the knowledge that no one could get him if they tried right now, Stiles loses the last of the tension and sobs in relief. The three let him cry, reassuring him that he is safe. 

The elevator chimes and Stiles pushes in closer to Clint, as far from the elevator as he can be. He feels both Uncle Phil and Bucky tense. 

“It’s just me.” Sam says as soon as the doors start to open. Everyone relaxes. “How are you doing, kid?” He asks softly, coming closer. 

“I’m okay.” Stiles croaks in a hoarse whisper. 

“I’ll get you some water.” Bucky murmurs and pulls away. Stiles fights down his instinctive panic at any of them leaving him right now and pries his fingers out of Bucky’s shirt. “I’ll be right back.” The soldier whispers. Stiles nods.

True to his word, it only takes Bucky a minute to return with the water, just long enough for Uncle Phil to coax Stiles onto the couch. Stiles gulps the water gratefully. 

“What happened?” Uncle Phil asks once he has finished. 

“It was my fault.”

“Somehow I highly doubt that.”

“You would be correct Agent Coulson.” JARVIS interrupts. 

“Stiles?” Clint asks again. 

“I… I went down to make coffee like I normally did. I didn’t know he was there until I was already in the middle of the room. He- He thought I was an intruder. He muted JARVIS and I couldn’t get an actual sentence out. If I could ha-have j-j-just tol-told him…”

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.” Sam says, rubbing a circle on Stiles’s knee. “Focus on me for a second. Just breathe Stiles, alright?” Stiles works on matching his breathing to Sam’s exaggerated ones. “Good. Now. You were scared and caught off guard, it’s perfectly understandable that you would have trouble justifying yourself to a stranger.” 

Stiles nods and takes a deep breath. “I ran when he tried to come closer. I got to the elevator but it wasn’t there.”

“JARVIS sent it to me as soon as Thor muted him. He knew I was awake.” Bucky explains. “He was afraid Thor would do something and wanted to make sure someone was coming for you.” 

Stiles leans over and basically collapses into Bucky. “Thank you.” He says. “Both of you.” He adds, making sure JARVIS knows he is included. 

“What happened after you got to the elevator?” Uncle Phil asks.

“Thor caught me. Wasn’t hard, obviously. He-he pinned me up against the doors. I panicked.” Stiles admits, shamefaced.

“He pinned you?” Uncle Phil’s voice is carefully even. “How?”

Stiles can’t find the words and instead raises a hand to his throat. Sharp inhales from Clint and Sam, a muted growl from Bucky, and dead silence from Uncle Phil. Then Uncle Phil opens eyes that are sparking with rage. “Demi-god or not, I’m going to kill him.” 

“No, Uncle Phil you can’t.” Stiles protests, voice cracking. “I told you I wouldn’t stay if I wasn’t welcome and I think Thor made his opinion on it clear enough even for me.”

“Not gonna fly, kid.” Sam says bluntly. “He has no right to treat you that way. No one does. Fact is you live here - Thor doesn’t.”

“Sir would like me to patch him through.” JARVIS says. “Shall I connect?”

“Yeah, JARVIS, go ahead.” Clint answers.

“Hey, kid.” Tony’s voice comes over the speakers. “How you doing?”

“I’m okay.” Stiles whispers.

“I’ll believe it when I see it. Uh, I talked to Thor. He wishes to apologize and also explain. He is sorta insisting on apologizing before explaining though.”

“No. I am not going to let him anywhere near Stiles until I know just what the hell happened.” Uncle Phil says immediately. 

“Uncle Phil…”

“I’m with Phil on this one.” Bucky interrupts. “Your safety is more important than his feelings of guilt or whatever.”

“You guys will be there.” Stiles says.

Clint searches Stiles’s face. “You trust us to protect you?” He asks seriously.

“I do.” Stiles replies, not a hint of doubt. They will protect him. He knows it.

“Phil -” Clint says.

“No.” 

“Everybody is either sitting here or is on the common floor already. That’s eight of us standing between Thor and Stiles.”

“No.” 

“Uncle Phil, please.” Stiles asks quietly. “He is your friend.”

“And you are my nephew.” Uncle Phil replies. “You come first. Always.”

For a moment Stiles can’t speak. Then he gains control and says, “But in this case you don’t have to pick. Let your friend apologize.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Sam says earnestly. “It is perfectly acceptable to need time to process what happened.”

“Nothing that hasn’t happened before.” Stiles admits honestly. All three men look horrified. Stiles shrugs. 

“For what it is worth,” Tony adds and Stiles startles. He had forgotten Tony was still listening. “I think Thor really is upset. He is starting to get pretty Shakespearean in his insults towards himself.”

Uncle Phil sighs and studies Stiles for a moment before conceding. “Fine. But I want you to get your knife as well. Eight of us between you and him is one thing but I want you to have something else just in case.”

“Um,” Stiles says and blushes before gesturing toward his ankle. 

“Why didn’t you use it?” 

“I knew it was Thor.” 

“And? He was hurting you.” 

“He’s your friend.”

“Hate to break it to you kid,” Tony says, “but so are you. Are you guys coming down then?”

“Yes. Keep Thor at the far end of the room. He doesn’t approach Stiles this time.”

“Understood.” JARVIS imites a click to signify that the line is closed. 

“Are you sure about this?” Bucky asks Stiles as they disentangle themselves from the couch. 

“Yeah. He deserves a chance to explain.” Stiles says. The chance he himself wasn’t given from the pack. The one he is letting slip away with the Avengers.

“Alright then.” 

The short ride to the common floor is silent. As soon as the doors open, Stiles tenses despite his best intentions. Clint ghosts a hand over his back and it gives Stiles the strength to walk out the elevator. As soon as he comes into the room Thor is apologizing.

“Forgive me, young one. I have done you a great disservice. I was irrational and blind with preconceived notions. Son of Coul is a most dear friend and to hurt one so dear to him is near unthinkable. I did not give you or JARVIS time to explain before I rushed in like an ill-tempered youth. Such folly has not been mine since days long past. Mjolnir should deem me unworthy for the slight I caused.”

“Uh, okay?” Stiles says quietly, confused at the fervent appeal. 

“Not okay, Thor.” Uncle Phil snaps. “Why the hell would you attack Stiles?”

“Forgive me, Son of Coul. Your nephew startled me when he came onto the floor. I have been in Asgard and had not received word that another was staying here. Just for a moment imagine my startlement when I arrived to find a strange Spark marked by sons of Fenrir wandering in our home. I acted without thought, and I was most wrong.”

“You know I’m a Spark?” Stiles asks, staring at Thor in amazement.

“Of course, young one. Powerful but untapped. Is there a reason you avoid your magic?”

“What.”

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t even…”

“Magic?”

Stiles ignores the remarks of the others for a moment as he tried to figure out where he has heard the phrase Thor used before. Sons of Fenrir. He is certain he had come across it at some point. Then he remembers.

“You know about werewolves?” He asks Thor incredulously. 

“Alright, really-”

“Did he just say werewolves?”

Stiles waves the others to silence. He turns to face his uncle.

“I think it’s time I told you about Beacon Hills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Sorry?
> 
> I know it seems like Thor kinda loses his fucking mind here but think about it... if you came home from a trip and found a strange wizard that hangs out with werewolves hanging around while your friends and family are sleeping wouldn't you flip your shit a bit too? (Before asking him to teach you because _hello, WIZARD_ )


	12. Well, Everybody's Hit The Bottom

“Are you sure?” Phil asks Stiles. “I want you to tell us because you are comfortable and trust us enough to. Not because you feel forced into it.”

“I do trust you. I was going to tell you all soon anyway. This just… pushed me over that last hurdle, I guess.” Stiles answers. He meets Phil’s eyes, even though Phil can see him wanting to hide like he normally does. That is what convinces Phil that Stiles means it.

“Okay. Like we told you before, we will always listen if you want to tell us something.” The others Phil can see nod in agreement. 

“Do you want Thor to leave?” Tony asks from the far side of the room.

Phil’s instincts say yes, but he nods at Stiles to answer. Stiles considers the thunder god. “Are you going to hurt me again?”

“No, young one. I mean you no harm.” Thor sounds solemn.

Stiles nods. “Then he can stay. He apparently knows something about werewolves and Sparks so he is probably going to be useful to have around. This is going to take a while… do you guys have things your supposed to do?”

“JARVIS clear our schedules.” Phil says instantly, silencing Stiles’s protest with a look.

“Done, Agent Coulson.”

Stiles sighs. “We should sit. It’s a long story.” He heads into the living area and curls up in an armchair. Phil follows and eyes his nephew before sitting in the chair next to him. The others arrange themselves around them, Clint perching on the arm of Phil’s chair and Bucky folding himself to the floor next to Stile’s. Thor chooses the seat furthest from Stiles with a regretful inclination of his head towards Phil. Tony climbs out of the suit before plunking down between Steve and Pepper on one couch and Sam, Bruce and Natasha settle into the others. 

“Whenever you are ready, Stiles.” Phil murmurs. “As much or as little as you want to tell us.”

Stiles nods. He pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them. Phil aches at how tired and resigned his nephew looks. He hates how Stiles is withdrawing already, without giving them a chance to react on their own. Slight movement catches his eye and Phil sees Bucky wrap a gentle hand around Stiles’s ankle, grounding him. Stiles’s sends the soldier a half hearted smile, but doesn’t move his ankle. Then he begins.

“I don’t know what Uncle Phil has told you guys but… I was always sort of a loser. I really only had one friend. Scott. He was… I thought we… He was my brother, you know?” Phil sees Bucky lean back just slightly to press against Steve’s knee. Stiles notices as well and sends the duo a sad smile. “I guess he didn’t feel the same way - although I didn’t learn that until too late.” Stiles eyes go distant and Phil realizes this is going to take a lot from him.

“Anyway, it was just me and Scott against the world. Nothing really happened in Beacon Hills, and I knew my life would play out as it had since Mom died. Scott and I would get picked on by the cool kids, sit on the bench during lacrosse and play video games after school. But then a few weeks after you came to visit the last time, Uncle Phil, I overheard a phone call dad got. They had found a body in the woods… or rather half a body. I thought it would be exciting to go try and find the other half. I dragged Scott out with me. My dad caught me before I could get very far, but Scott hid and I lied to cover for him. I didn’t know what would happen - it would have been better for Scott to have gotten caught with me. But I left him out there, alone. He found the other half of the body… and he got attacked.”

“Attacked? By the murderer?” Steve asks.

“Actually yes, but it was more complicated than that. The wound was an animal bite. Scott said he heard a wolf howl before he got bit but I told him that was impossible - wolves are extinct in California.”

“He was bitten by a Son of Fenrir.” Thor remarks. 

“Yep. A werewolf. Straight out of a fucking story book.” Stiles barks a harsh laugh.

“Are they not common on your world then?” Thor asks in confusion.

“No.” Everyone except Stiles replies.

“Oh they are a lot more common than you’d think.” Stiles argues. “They just hide themselves well. I figured it out after watching Scott the next few days. I spent hours researching everything I could find and it all fit. All of Scott’s new abilities, the howl, the bite… Scott didn’t believe me. He.. he tried to hit me when I told him.” Stiles shrugs. “Then the full moon happened and suddenly I didn’t sound quite so much like a nutjob. We also found out who the other werewolf in town was. Derek Hale.”

Stiles continues, weaving a tale so fantastic that Phil would be struggling to believe if it wasn’t for Noah’s warning, Thor’s occasional inputs and Tony’s connecting the information he found. Stiles tells them about the Hales and the Argents. About revenge driven alphas and the struggle to adapt to this new world and trying to protect people. About his rough treatment at the hands of Derek, Scott’s new indifference and hurtful attitude, and about doing his best to try and help everyone. From nearly having to cut off Derek’s arm to getting kidnapped by Peter to the showdown at the house. 

“Jackson, Allison and I set Peter on fire using self-igniting molotov cocktails.” He stops. “That has always bothered me. It was pretty much the only thing we could have done - normal weapons wouldn’t have hurt him and we didn’t have access to wolfsbane bullets like the Argents do. But it seems so wrong to have used fire against him after everything.”

“You did what you had to.” Bucky says, tightening his grip. 

“Maybe.” Stiles says doubtfully. “We didn’t kill him though. Derek had told Scott that if you kill the one that turned you - you revert back to human.”

“That is not true.” Thor remarks gravely. “Killing an alpha just makes you one.”

“I know that now, but then Scott still had hope. But Derek got to Peter before Scott could. He became the alpha.” 

“Jesus, kid. That a lot to go through.” Sam says, shaking his head.

“Oh.” Stiles looks up, face blank with surprise. “No. That was just the beginning.”

“Fuck. Alright I am going to make us all coffee… or tea.” Sam says, eyeing Bruce and Phil with concern. Phil can feel his hands bleeding where he has dug his nails into his palms. He forces himself to relax his hands but keeps them tucked out of sight. He needed Stiles to tell the rest. 

“You can keep talking, Stiles. I can hear you from here.” Sam sys as he moves about the kitchen. 

“What happened after Hale became the alpha?” Phil asks, keeping his voice calm. Clint moves from the arm of the chair to the back, bracketing Phil with his legs. Phil leans back into him gratefully.

“At first, nothing really. Lydia was healing from the bite - it didn’t kill her and she didn’t turn.” 

“She has immunity to the bite? What type of creature is the girl?” Thor asks.

“Funny you should ask. We didn’t figure it out until much later but she is a banshee.”

“A banshee? Like a wailing woman?” Bruce asks curiously. 

“That’s the one.” Stiles says. “But all we knew at the time was that she was somehow immune. And then she took off from the hospital. She ran through the woods naked for a few days before we found her. She couldn’t remember anything. More psycho Argents converged on the town and swore vengeance for Kate. Other than that the main thing was that Derek started to build up a pack and reached really unaccountable levels of douchebag. He had bitten Jackson, but didn’t want him as a beta… I think Jackson forced him into it. I guess alphas need three betas to be stable. So Derek turned three of my classmates. The thing is… he took people who could benefit from the bite. Scott was furious that Derek was ‘condemning’ more people to this life. But Isaac was first. His home life… his dad was a sick bastard. He used to lock Isaac in a chest freezer in the basement. He hit Isaac all the time. Derek gave Isaac the means to protect himself. Isaac’s dad was murdered a few days later. It wasn’t Isaac that did it, but there was enough motive that they arrested him - it was a full moon. Derek, Allison and I managed to break Isaac out and get him away from both the innocent cops and the hunters who were coming for him.”

Stiles pauses to accept the coffee Sam hands him. He takes a sip and then scrunches his face and passes it to Bucky. Bucky rolls his eyes but takes the cup and heads into the kitchen. He returns a moment later and returns the cup. Stiles tastes it and thanks Bucky before trying to regain the thread of his story.

“So after Isaac I guess the next major thing was Derek turning Erica and Boyd. Erica… she had really bad seizures. People used to make fun of her for it. The bite healed her. Boyd, he was an outsider. Being bit gave him a chance to belong to something. Derek gave them the choice. But anyway, Derek had a pack and they - they didn’t like me very much. They wanted Scott as part of their pack but me they had little use for.” Stiles shrugs. “I get it. But then I stumbled on something. I went to get my jeep from the mechanic one night.” He pauses.

“The one who was killed in front of you?” Tony asks quietly.

Stiles nods. “I touched something on the doorknob. It paralyzed me. All I could do was watch when this lizard thing paralyzed the mechanic and crushed him under my jeep…” Stiles trails off, eyes going distant. Then he shakes himself back. I had the joy of running into it not long after that as well. I was at the school looking for the Argents beastiary - it’s like a book that has all the information they have collected on various creatures. We were going to look for whatever the thing was. Allison’s grandfather Gerard had somehow managed to get the position as our principal, so I was supposed to be searching his office. Derek and Erica cornered me in the pool at the school, though, to ask me about it. The thing showed up and attacked us. It tossed Erica aside and knocked her out. It paralyzed Derek and he ended up in the pool. I jumped in after him and kept us both afloat. The lizard couldn’t get in the water so we were safe as long as we stayed there. But we couldn’t get out because it was still circling the pool. I managed to get to my phone and tried to call Scott for help. He… He hung up on me and I didn’t have time to try anyone else - I had to get to Derek. So I just kept Derek up and waited. A couple hours later Scott showed up and scared the thing off. Just in time too, I had just about reached the end of my endurance.”

“Stiles, you managed to keep both yourself and another adult male afloat for a couple hours?” Steve asks, amazed.

“Yeah? Like I said I had just about drowned us both before Scott showed up though.” Stiles explains.

“Stiles that wasn’t… you know that what you did was incredible right?” Steve asks.

“Not really. Any of the others could have held out longer. Anyway,” He continues, not giving anyone else a chance to speak. “After that Derek figured out what it was - a kanima. Kanimas are I guess something that happens when something goes wrong with the bite. Sometimes the form you take represents the person you are. Kanimas look for a master, someone to control them. Derek and his pack set out to kill it. They thought it was Lydia, since all the strangeness lately was centered on her. We managed to hold them off just long enough for us all to see that it was Jackson that was turning into the kanima, not Lydia.”

“Oh!” Tony interrupts with a dawning understanding. “That’s why you kidnapped him.”

“You kidnapped him?” Clint asks, humor lacing his voice. “And got caught?”

“Not just that.” Tony adds. “They stole a prisoner transport van and locked him in it. This Jackson kid’s dad is the DA. Both Stiles and Scott got restraining orders placed against them.”

“It’s not funny.” Stiles says quietly, looking close to tears. “Jackson was killing people. We were trying to keep both them and him safe - we didn’t know who was controlling him. But Jackson didn’t believe us and Scott and Allison were too caught up in themselves to keep watch and he transformed and escaped. I nearly lost my father his job because I had to lie and tell them we did it as a prank.”

“Hey,” Bucky says quietly, kneeling up in front of Stiles and lifting his chin. “You were trying to do the right thing with very limited options. You couldn’t tell the police, you couldn’t turn him over to Derek to be killed, so you worked with what you had. It sucks that you and your dad got the short end of the stick on that, but there wasn’t anything you could have done.”

Tears track down Stiles’s cheeks. “I could have told my dad.” 

“Stiles,” Phil says, leaning forward to catch his eyes. “You didn’t tell him because you wanted to keep him safe, right?”

Stiles nods. 

“That is a good reason. He wouldn’t have been able to do anything with the information anyway.”

“But he might not have looked at me the way he did.” Stiles breathes the words. Phil reaches over and places a hand on Stiles’s arm. 

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles leans his head down and presses his forehead to Phil’s hand. He takes a shuddering breath and then sits up. “I tried to fix it.” He says. “I tried to find a connection, something linking the victims, someway to figure out who Jackson’s master was. Dad and I managed it. We figured out who the next victim would be. She was running this big underground rave that everyone was going to. So we made a plan to catch them. Scott and I joined Derek’s pack. That’s also when I learned about my spark.” Stiles nods to Thor. “Deaton told me how to make a mountain ash circle. The plan was to trap Jackson inside, knock him out and wait for his master to come looking.”

Stiles snorts a humorless laugh. “It all went to shit immediately of course. The Argents showed up to the rave as well. I managed to complete the circle… that’s how I actually knew I had magic. I had only a handful of ash left and about fifty feet left to complete the circle and - I did it. I… created the ash somehow.” Stiles explains, twisting his hand around and staring at it. “But then the ketamine didn’t knock Jackson out for long enough and Mrs. Argent decided it was time to kill Scott. I had to break the line so Derek could go rescue him, Jackson killed the girl we were trying to protect, and Mrs. Argent got bitten in the fight.”

“She followed their code, did she not?” Thor asks sadly. Stiles nods. Glancing at the confusion on the faces of the others, Stiles explains.

“The hunters’ code states that if you are bitten, you have to kill yourself before the next full moon.”

“That’s fucked up.” Tony remarks.

“Yeah.” Stiles agrees. “But she did it. It destroyed Allison. She started following Gerard’s crazy ideas. This all happened the same night as Lydia’s birthday party. That was a whole different problem. Lydia spiked the drinks. Made us all hallucinate… or relive memories...or I don’t know. What Scott saw was definitely just a hallucination, but mine… mine was a memory.” Stiles finishes softly, unconsciously gripping his forearm. 

“Do you want to tell us?” Sam asks quietly, recognizing the signs of a lingering trauma.

Stiles turns to look at Phil. “I’m not sure you want to know.” He says softly. 

Phil swallows thickly. “I want to know whatever you want to tell me.” He assures Stiles, praying that’s true. 

Stiles keeps eye contact with him and slowly asks, “Do you remember what Dad was like when you came for Mom’s funeral?”

Phil winces. “Yes, I do.” 

“He didn’t… get better after you left.” Stiles says cautiously. Phil closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. 

“My brother was drunk out of his mind the entire time I was there for the funeral.” He explains bluntly for the benefit of the others. 

“You saved me, you know.” Stiles says suddenly, looking at Phil intently. “When you came. No one had really looked at me for months. I understood - Dad was busy with Mom and Mom mostly just yelled and hit me,” He ignores the collective flinch from the Avengers at this point, “but when you came you actually cared what I was doing. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that. You were there when I needed someone. Oh,” he says curiously, whose numbers did you give me anyway?”

Phil has to take a moment before he can speak. He clears his throat. “Clint, Natasha and Fury’s. Clint and Fury knew who you were and would have gotten ahold of me immediately. Natasha didn’t know, but she would have figured it out and done the same.”

“Huh,” Stiles contemplates that. “Anyway, things didn’t get better after you left. Dad worked every shift he could. When they would send him home he would go straight to the bottle. I figured out how to keep things together. That’s when I learned how to cook, too. I asked Melissa to teach me. I used to do everything around the house. I- shit! I left - what is Dad going to do? He can’t-” Stiles sits bolt upright. 

“Hey.” Phil stands and moves in front of Stiles, Bucky shifting out of his way. “Your dad is not your responsibility. He should have been taking care of you, not vice versa. Your father is a grown man - he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and honestly, at this point he can starve for all I care.” Phil says firmly.

“Uncle Phil, you don’t mean that.” Stiles says, shocked.

“You’d be surprised how much I do.” Phil responds. “Now what happened?”

Stiles drops his eyes. “It was like six months after the funeral… he caught me after he was already drunk. Usually he just ignored me but that night, he started in on me. ‘It’s you. It’s all you.’” Stiles’s voice takes on a flat note as he begins repeating the words that are probably burned into his brain. “‘You know everyday I saw her lying in that hospital slowly dying, I thought how the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own. This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life.’” Stiles is crying by this point, and Phil resists the urge to wrap him in his arms. He knows Stiles needs to get this off his chest. These words have festered there for far too long. They needed to cut out the rotten part and it would have to hurt. “‘It’s all you. It’s you, Stiles. You killed your mother. You hear me? You killed her and now you’re killing me.’ He threw… threw the bottle at me. I ducked but the pieces… I went and hid in the closet.” Stiles is sobbing and Phil tugs his nephew into his arms, letting him get the poison out. His jaw creaks from how hard he is clenching it and it’s lucky for Noah that he is all the way across the country. Bucky reaches over to place a hand on his shoulder, grounding Phil and reminding him that Noah can be dealt with later… Stiles is what matters now. 

“You know that wasn’t true, right?” He asks Stiles as he begins to calm. “You are a good kid Stiles. Nothing that happened with your mother was your fault. Your dad loves you. He was drunk and stupid and grieving. He was just lashing out.” 

Stiles shrugs against him. “He stopped drinking after that. We never talked about it.” 

“I’m so sorry. I thought he would get better after the funeral. I should never have just left without checking in.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either.” 

Stiles pulls back after a moment and roughly scrubs his face. “So that’s what I saw the night of the party.” He adds with a rough try at a laugh.

“Why would Lydia drug you?” Steve asks, accepting Stiles’s desire to move past the moment. Phil moved back to his chair. 

“She needed the chaos.” Stiles says. 

Thor’s eyes widen. “She resurrected the alpha?” He asks in surprise.

Stiles nods. “Peter had gotten in her head when he bit her. He connected them somehow and was messing with her mind to get her to do the ritual. Once she did he left her alone. Peter came back as a beta and weakened, but he was back and frighteningly much more sane.” 

“Jesus. So what happened then?”

“We found out who was controlling Jackson in pretty much the worst way possible. It was a classmate of ours, Matt. We had just figured it out with Dad and we were at the station. Melissa was coming to make an identification. I went to let the front desk know to let her in, and found all the deputies dead, Matt with a gun and Jackson in his kanima form. Matt made me handcuff Dad to the wall back by the holding cells. Then he made me and Scott destroy all the evidence we had on the murders. Derek showed up and Jackson paralyzed both him and me. Then Melissa got there and Matt shot Scott in front of her before locking her in the holding cell. I guess Matt wanted the beastiery - he was turning into a kanima himself. Derek told me it was because he was breaking the rules, but he wanted to find a solution. Then the lights went out and people started shooting though the windows. The Argents had decided to show up. Scott came and pulled me into an interrogation room out of the fighting. I missed a lot of what happened next because of it, but from what I heard Jackson paralyzed Allison but Chris got her out. I could hear Dad yelling and started dragging myself towards them. I made it to the doorway into the holding area in time to see him pull the bracket off the wall right before Matt knocked him out. I couldn’t do anything. Melissa and I could just watch as Derek and then Scott fought Jackson.”

Stiles shakes his head. “That’s how Melissa found out about all this. She … wasn’t pleased. She refused to talk to Scott for a while after that. Matt used the chaos to escape but… Gerard followed him and killed him. Gerard took control of the kanima. The championship game was not long after that. Scott was ineligible because of his grades. Coach - he put me in. I actually got to play. I guess Gerard warned Scott that he had until the end of the game to give up Derek or he would make Jackson kill someone. Scott and Isaac worked on getting Scott close enough to take down Jackson, and Jackson paralyzed Isaac. Scott ended up having to go save him from Gerard and the hunters. That just left me out there and I … I won the championship game.” Stiles smiles in remembrance and the others can’t help but smile as well. The smile fades rapidly though. “And then the best night of my life became the worst.” 

Stiles hesitates. He drains the rest of his coffee and stares into the empty mug until Bucky reaches up and gently pries it from his hands. He replaces it with his own and squeezes gently. “It’s okay. We are here and we aren’t going anywhere.”

Stiles nods slowly and clears his throat. “At the end of the game I guess Jackson did kill someone… himself. I didn’t know that that though because at the end of the game all the lights on the field went out and… and Gerard grabbed me.” Stiles takes a shuddering breath. “He took me back to the Argent’s house and threw me down into the basement. Erica and Boyd were there. He had them tied up, gagged and hanging from the ceiling with electrical wires. If you keep a low level of electricity running them, werewolves can’t transform. I was concerned but I knew someone would come for me, unlike last time. We all knew Gerard was planning something, and when they noticed I was gone they would come for me.”

Phil gets a terrible feeling.

“They could track me by scent. I told Gerard that when he came back, but he didn't listen. He started taunting me. Insulting me and harping on my uselessness with the pack. It wasn’t anything I didn’t know though so it didn’t really bother me. But then he told me his real reason for taking me.” Stiles stops again and shakes his head once. “I was supposed to be a message to Scott. A taunt I guess or a warning? That he couldn’t protect us.”

Phil’s stomach drops to the floor.

“He started with just hits and kicks and standard things like that. But then…”

This time when Stiles stops, he takes a second to glance around at them all. Phil doesn’t know what the rest of them look like, but he keeps ironclad control of his face. Stiles releases Bucky and gently nudges him aside so he can stand. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the hems of his shirts. Taking one last deep breath, Stiles pulls both of his shirts off, exposing his torso.

Dead silence descends on the room. Bucky slowly unfolds himself from the floor. “That man better be dead.” He growls, metal arm recalibrating with his agitation. 

Stiles laughs harshly and without humor. “We’ll get to that.”

“Fucking hell, kid.” Tony swears, leaning forward on the couch. “Why didn’t I find this in your medical history?”

Phil’s gaze snaps up from where he is staring at Stiles’s chest to his face just in time to catch the resigned look on his face. 

“Because besides you guys and Gerard the only ones who knew about this are all dead.”

Phil clenches his fists before standing and moving to stand next to Stiles. He loosens his fists and lifts a shaking hand to ghost along one of the burns on Stiles’s chest. 

“He started with electrocuting me.” Stiles says quietly. He holds out his wrists and eyes them dispassionately. “Tied me up with cabling like the betas and then played with me.” He ghosts his hand across the burns that litter his chest. “Tried different places to see if it would make me react differently. Eventually he got bored and moved on to knives.” Here he traces the long, jagged marks on his arms and stomach before turning and showing them the long gashes on his back. “Nothing too deep, not enough to really damage. Just enough to scar. To leave me with the memory of him carved into my skin.” 

He turns back to face them. “I’m not ashamed of them.” He explains. “I don’t hide them because of that. Back there… I was being used as a message. He was trying to make me nothing better than a piece of paper. I was not going to let him have that kind of power over me. Not when I’d been helpless to stop him taking the pen to my skin in the first place.”

Phil can’t stop himself from gathering his nephew into his arms and clinging. At first he thinks the shaking is all him, but then he notices Stiles’s rough breathing on his neck. The others slowly gather round and reach out to lay a comforting hand on one of them. 

“You never have to hide with us. You are one of the bravest people I have ever met. You are so strong.” Phil murmurs to Stiles, whose shaking increases. 

“Hey,” Bucky says from beside them. Stiles and Phil both turn to look at him without fully releasing each other. Bucky pulls his shirt off before leaning down and grabbing Stiles’s hand. He places it on the mess of scars surrounding his shoulder. “Our scars show us what we have survived. They prove just how strong you really are.”

“He’s right.” Tony says. When they turn to face him he pulls the front of his t-shirt up to reveal the arc reactor in its gnarled nest of scars. “They aren’t anything to be ashamed of - you were right there. But you get to decide what those mean - not that sick fuck. You don’t have to cover them up here unless you want.”

“Stiles,” Phil says to get his attention. When his nephew turns to him, Phil takes a deep breath of his own and lifts his shirt to show the scar on his chest. He doesn’t show it often - not because he is ashamed but because of the dark emotions it brings his teammates - his family. So Phil understands all too well why Stiles did what he did. Stiles sucks in a sharp gasp at the sight of the scar. Proof of a wound that by all rights should have killed him. He gently runs his fingers along it and Phil places his on one of the nastier scars on Stile’s stomach. “When I see these I see proof of a young man stronger than most. One who took the abuse meant for his friends and did so without complaint. A young man we are lucky to call our friend.”

Stiles’s jaw works as he stares at Phil. Then he closes his eyes and pulls away, ghosting touches on all of the Avengers gathered around before he pulls his shirt back on. He leaves his overshirt off for once though, trusting them with the scars on his arms. 

“There is a reason you couldn’t find anything about this in my medical records Tony.” He says, returning to his seat. The others take the cue, scattering back to their seats. “Gerard left after awhile. He said something about a time constraint but I wasn’t really listening be that point to be honest.” He laughs again, this time self-deprecatingly. “I still thought someone was coming for me at that point. But I figured I would take the opportunity. I managed to turn off the current keeping the betas trapped. Boyd was able to break free after that and cut Erica loose as well. The three of us left and went to the school. Erica insisted on fixing me up. She broke into the nurses office. She treated the burns and Boyd stitched and bandaged everything else. The two of them had been caught attempting to leave town. This had made them almost more determined to leave town and I wished them well and sent them off.”

“Wait,” Steve says slowly. “I thought you said everyone else was dead.”

Stiles gives a broken laugh. “We aren’t even to the end of my sophomore year of high school. Trust me, we have a lot more ground to cover.”

Phil tries to wrap his head around that. His nephew had been tortured by a sadistic bastard when he was only sixteen years old. What he had heard already heard was enough to make Phil want to go into that fucked up town guns blazing, and there was more than a year’s worth of time to still account for before Stiles left. 

“I needed to go get my stuff if I was going to keep up the lie that I was fine. Couldn’t show up covered in blood. I checked my phone when I got to my locker. And that’s when I realized the truth. My dad was the only one looking for me. Scott and the others hadn’t even realized I was gone or that they should look for me. Scott had been sending me increasingly annoyed text messages demanding my help. Jackson wasn’t really dead apparently. He was evolving into the kanima’s alpha form or some shit, I don’t know and honestly don’t care. I had been so sure that they were looking for me…. But Dad was. He was frantic. So I ignored Scott and I drove myself home. When I got there he was calling everyone to try and find me. I couldn’t hide the bruises on my face so I gave him some story about the other team being pissed off about losing and roughing me up.”

Stiles sighs and shakes his head. “He didn’t believe me. I could see it in his eyes. He knew I was lying and couldn’t figure out why I would do that. But I couldn’t tell him. I just couldn’t.”

“We know.” Phil says calmly. Stiles looks up at him and nods. 

“I was… angry. I didn’t want to deal with anymore of the supernatural bullshit. I thought I had done by part that night and Scott and the others could deal with it themselves. I was selfish.”

“You had every right to.” Sam says. “You were hurt and abandoned by your friends. It was completely acceptable for you to take a step back.”

“People’s lives were in danger.”

“Sometimes you have to think about your life first.”

Stiles shakes his head but doesn’t argue. “Lydia came to my house. She wanted to talk about Jackson. She saw the text Scott sent me saying that they had figured out that Lydia might be able to get through to Jackson thanks to their connection. Lydia wanted to go find them. I - I yelled at her.” He admits, shame lacing his voice. “She left. Dad came up not long after. He tried to cheer me up by telling me I had been a hero in the lacrosse game and all I could think was that I was sitting in my room instead of helping people who needed it. I was no hero.” 

Phil wants to argue but can see that Stiles isn’t in a place to here it. He keeps his mouth shut.

“So I decided to help. I went and found Lydia and headed to the warehouse Scott had told me. When we got there I just drove right through the wall and took out Jackson. Lydia managed to talk him out of kanima form and then he… I think he knew what they were going to do.” He says cryptically. “He sorta stood back and nodded slightly before spreading his arms out, leaving himself defenseless. Derek and Peter came at him from both sides. We thought they had killed him. But then… he transformed. He was a werewolf, not the kanima. It was only after that I learned what had happened before Lydia and I got there.”

“I had thought I couldn’t be any angrier with Scott, but I learned differently. The whole time he had been working with Gerard. He had been helping the man who tortured me.” Stiles says, voice still astonished even after all this time.

“He was what?” Clint’s voice is deadly. 

Stiles nods. “I guess Gerard was threatening his mom. But rather than tell any of us, he just went along with Gerard’s plans. He was double-crossing Derek, feeding Gerard information, and that night he had held a severely injured Derek in place so that Gerard could get the bite.”

“Gerard… wanted the bite?” Pepper asks in confusion. “I thought the code said he would have to kill himself.”

“It did. Gerard was dying of cancer. He was a hypocritical bastard that was afraid to die. I guess Scott had known - he could smell it. So Scott played Gerard. He replaced his medication with mountain ash. Gerard’s body rejected the bite. He crawled away when we were dealing with Jackson but he has to be dead. You reject the bite or you turn. He was rejecting it. He has to be dead.” Phil isn’t sure if Stiles is trying to convince them or himself.

“Yes, young one. If he was rejecting the bite then he has gone to join his ancestors.” Thor says soothingly, apparently catching the same thing.

“Right. Dead. Well after that Jackson and his family moved to London. Allison’s dad took her to France for the summer. Lydia went back to ignoring our existence. Derek thought that I had been in on Scott’s plan. In his eyes I had betrayed them all as well. He wouldn’t give me a chance to explain myself. And where Derek went, Isaac and Peter followed. So it was back to just me and Scott.”

“You forgave him?” Steve asks. Stiles flickers his gaze between Bucky and Steve before answering.

“He was my brother. How could I not?” Steve nods slightly in understanding. Phil, on the other hand, is strongly contemplating the murder of his own brother, and barely contains a snort.

“Things were quiet that summer with everyone gone. It was almost like things were back to normal you know? And then -” Stiles is interrupted when his stomach growls loudly. “Sorry.” He mutters embarrassed.

“Don’t be.” Clint says, glancing at the clock. “It’s long past our normal breakfast time. It sounds like this is a good place to take a break anyway. Why don’t we make some brunch and eat before you tell us the rest?”

“Okay.” Stiles agrees. “That sounds good.”

“Come on,” Bruce says and stands. “I’ll help you cook. I am also going to make you some tea for your throat. You’ll get hoarse with all this talking.” 

“It is a lot more than I have talked lately.” Stiles agrees, following Bruce into the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” Natasha asks Phil, studying him carefully. 

“I honestly don’t know.” He responds, eyes following his nephew as Stiles begins pulling things from the cupboard. “I knew it was bad, but werewolves? Torture? My brother being a full fledged abusive alcoholic like our father? Scott, a kid I have known since he was eight, turning out to be an ungrateful asshole? This is beyond what I thought, and what Stiles has told us so far only gets us to the end of his sophomore year. He ran away at the start of senior year. How much worse is this going to get? How is he even as put together as he is right now?”

“Because he is strong.” Bucky says. “Because he is an incredible person with what sounds like a near unbreakable core. Yeah he is a little bent right now, Phil, but most people would have broken under a fraction of the strain. He came to you for help. He trusts the rest of us now. We can help him. You guys brought me back from a much more broken place. And he is a lot more deserving than I was.”

Steve leans forward and shoves Bucky in the shoulder. “Don’t say shit like that. You deserve our help and love just as much as he does.”

“And you did a lot of that work yourself, Bucky. We could never have brought you back if you didn’t try damn hard to meet us.” Sam adds.

“Look at him.” Bucky says, gesturing at Stiles. “He did the work before we even met him. He reached out to Phil for help and left himself open to the rest of us. It’s our turn to reach out to him.”

“Alright, enough.” Pepper says. “We are all resolved to help Stiles. I think everyone needs to take a step back and calm down before brunch. Natasha, Steve and Clint, take Bucky and Phil to the gym. You four work off some tension and then come back. Tony, go touch base with the bots. Thor, why don’t you go change out of your armour and into something a little less intimidating huh? Sam, go help Bruce and Stiles finish brunch.”

“What about you?” Tony asks.

“I’m going to go scream into a pillow.” She replies candidly. “Now go.” 

They scatter, promising to be back once brunch is ready. Stiles waves them off, turning to ask Bruce something with a slight smile on his face. Phil watches him until the elevator doors close, wondering if Stiles has any idea just how amazing he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the first part of Stiles's story is revealed! I tried not to make this too out of control in the recounting (I know you guys know what happened), but I thought it was important to see Stiles's perspective on certain events. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this portion :)


	13. And There Ain't No Healing

A half hour of rough sparring later, Phil is feeling more settled in his skin. He is still horrified and furious, but no longer feels a split second from exploding. Bucky seems to have settled too, and even Clint, Steve and Natasha look calmer. The five take quick showers and change into comfortable clothing before heading back to the common floor. 

The time away seems to have been good for everyone, Phil notes with relief. He is a little worried about how rough hearing this is on himself and the others, but it’s worth it for the good it is doing Stiles. His nephew already looks lighter, gleefully questioning Thor on everything from Asgard’s architecture to the truth behind the Norse myths he has read. Thor is answering everything Stiles asks, perched calmly at the counter. Phil notices Sam keeping a careful eye on the two as he sets the table, and sighs in relief. He knows Thor is a good man, but it will be some time before he trust the god with his nephew. 

Stiles’s questions are interrupted by the sound of a timer. He opens the oven and pulls out a quiche that smells heavenly. The quiche is quickly added to the table, joining an abundance of food. Stiles surveys the offerings and glances at Bruce and Sam before smiling.

“Food’s ready guys.”

The Avengers converge on the table. Phil settles next to Stiles and gives his nephew a quick side hug. “Thank you. It all looks and smells delicious.”

Stiles pinks at the compliment. “I figure you guys are listening to me ramble - you deserve a good meal to keep you going.” He says, shrugging.

“You honor us with the trust necessary to share your burdens. Especially in regards to myself, when I have done nothing worthy of such. It is us who should be rewarding you with such a feast.” Thor remarks from the other end of the table.

“Uh... “ Stiles blinks rapidly at Thor.

“Don’t worry.” Phil says with a smile, serving both himself and Stiles some of the fruit salad being passed around. “You get used to it.”

“Right.” Stiles responds unconvinced. He glances down at his plate and smiles at finding the contents. Phil had carefully added everything he thought his nephew would like, maintaining small portions. “Thanks, Uncle Phil!” Stiles chimes happily before digging in. 

Everyone is careful to keep the conversation light hearted and directed away from the morning’s revelations during brunch. Phil notes Pepper, Tony, Natasha and Clint mixing alcohol into their drink of choice, but they are subtle about it and keep it to one each. He can’t really begrude them the drink, knowing he contemplated doing the same to take the edge off. After the revelation about Noah, however, all of Phil’s hard settled issues with alcohol are nudging at the back of his mind. Clint catches him watching and glances down at the orange juice and vodka he had been about to sip. His partner winces and pulls the glass away.

“Sorry. I didn’t think.” Clint murmurs, reaching over to place a hand on Phil’s thigh. Phil covers the hand with his own and squeezes before offering him a bittersweet smile. 

“It’s fine. You aren’t the only one and I can understand the urge. Just don’t go too far?” He asks hesitantly, unwilling to direct Clint’s behavior like so many have in the past. Phil makes a note to talk to Sam about the possible resurgence of past issues for the team. Phil is certainly feeling more susceptible than usual.

“Of course.” Clint responds immediately. “I never planned to have more than this one. Just a little something to make the next part of the story go down easier, you know?” 

“I know.”

After they finish eating, everyone grabs another drink before heading back over. Phil notes with amusement that Stiles somehow convinces Bucky to fix him an extra large mug of coffee. The soldier gripes the whole time, but his eyes are soft and fond and Phil can see that Stiles knows it’s just for show. They all settle back where they were, and he sees that someone (his money would be on Pepper) had placed a cushion from one of the theater room couches on the floor where Bucky had decided to park himself. Phil shakes his head in amusement and leans back into Clint when his partner settles behind him. 

“So … bad stuff went down and then everyone scattered for the summer, right?” Steve prompts once everyone is settled.

Stiles laughs. “Basically. The summer was quiet, at least for Scott and I. We didn’t find out till later but an alpha pack had moved into Beacon Hills.”

“An alpha pack? Like a pack… of alphas?” Steve asks in surprise. 

Bucky snorts. “Way to go Steve, you switched the order of the words to get the answer.”

“Shut it, jerk.” Steve says, kicking his best friend in the ribs lightly. “It just doesn’t sound like something that should work.”

“You’re right, Steve.” Stiles interjects before Bucky can retort. “They weren’t exactly a cohesive bunch. Lots of bickering. But they had a leader that kept them in line. His name was Deucalion.”

“The Demon Wolf.” Thor says, voice cautious.

“You know him?” Stiles asks in surprise.

“I know of him.” Thor corrects. “It was abhorrent, unnatural what he did. Rumors have traveled about him.”

“Yeah we weren’t fans ourselves.” Stiles remarks dryly. “Deucalion murdered his entire pack to gain their power as his own. Then he traveled around and convinced other alphas to do the same before joining him.” Stiles explains for the rest of them. “When they came to Beacon Hills there were five of them in total - Deucalion, Ennis, Kali, and the twins. Well six if you count their emissary. Mrs Morell had been there for awhile though so I don’t know how that works.”

“Emissary?” Clint asks.

“Oh, yeah.” Stiles says sheepishly. “An emissary is an advisor to the pack. They are usually human and a magic user. Druids in particular I guess. Deaton was the emissary to the Hale pack before the fire. Morell was his sister actually.” 

Clint nods. “So what were they doing in Beacon Hills?”

“Well like I said, at first Scott and I didn’t even know they were there. Derek and his pack knew…. The alphas had kidnapped Erica and Boyd on their way out of town. Derek, Peter and Isaac had spent the entire summer looking for them. Isaac found them just as school was starting and then got attacked. That’s how Scott and I found out. Other things started happening right around when school started as well. A deer ran head first into Lydia’s car with her and Allison in it. A flock of birds flew into the school and killed themselves. Pets were turning on their owners. Oh, and the alpha twins - Ethan and Aiden - started at the high school. And then my friend Heather disappeared.”

“Heather? The Heather from when you were three?” Phil asks, concerned.

“Yeah. The night of her seventeenth birthday party. She just vanished. We thought it had something to do with the alpha pack. So we needed Isaac to remember what had happened before he was attacked. Derek and Peter had tried - a werewolf can use their claws to go through someone’s memories.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all.” Tony mutters. Stiles shoots him a grin before continuing. 

“Peter tried with Isaac, but he couldn’t see everything - just enough to know that he had found Erica and Boyd and that they were going to be dead before the full moon, which was the following night. So we asked Deaton for help. He knew a ritual but… it was bad. Scott, Derek and I had to hold Isaac underwater in an ice bath until he was practically dead. It put him in a trance to unlock the memories. We found out that they were in an abandoned bank… and that Erica was dead.” He finishes quietly.

“Shit.” Bucky says, reaching up to place a hand on Stiles’s knee. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles nods. “We still had time to get to Boyd and whoever the other girl was so we got the blueprints for the bank and started planning. As per usual though, the plan didn’t work as intended. Derek and Scott climbed down through a shoot and punched through the wall to the vault. But the Peter and I figured out that the walls were lined with hecatolite.”

“Moonstone?” Bruce asks, surprised.

Stiles nods. “It scatters the moonlight. They had been kept from transforming from three full moons.”

Thor swears and Phil glances at him. “If sons of Fenrir are kept from transforming they revert to their basest nature. They are vicious, savage.” Thor explains.

“It was a trap. The vault was lined with mountain ash. Once Derek and Scott were inside, Morell finished the line and locked them in. The alphas expected Derek and Cora to kill them.”

“Cora?” Phil asks.

“The other girl in the vault. It was Cora Hale - Derek’s little sister. She had escaped from the fire somehow and had been living in South America. She thought Derek and Laura were dead. She and Boyd attacked Scott and Derek. But Allison had tracked down the bank on her own and broke the line to save Scott. Scott, Derek, Isaac and Chris then had to track down and stop Cora and Boyd from hurting anyone else, they managed it, but Derek nearly dies in the process. While they were doing that I got a frantic call from Lydia - she had stumbled on a dead body at the pool. I went to meet her. Lydia had no idea how she had ended up at the pool.”

“The lady’s banshee abilities were being awakened.” Thor says solemnly.

“Yeah, although none of us knew that.” Stiles agrees. “Anyway, I thought it must have been Boyd and Cora because the throat was ripped out. But then Melissa called me to the hospital. She showed me the body - the throat had been sliced, not ripped out, and there were both a ligature mark around his throat and several blunt force trauma to the back of the head.”

“The threefold death.” Thor remarks gravely. “You have interacted with dark magic, young one.”

Stiles sighs, “You’re telling me. The kid wasn’t the only one.” Stiles stops and clears his throat. “Heather was killed the same way. I saw her body.” He croaks, bowing his head for a second. When he lifts his head, Phil can see he has packed the pain back to where it had been stored. “I realized the threefold death connection and another. All three - Heather, the guy from the pool and another girl that was murdered that night -were virgins.”

“Are you… virgin sacrifices? Jesus kid, how did you end up in a fucking fairy tale?” Tony asks incredulous.

“I have no clue.” Stiles answers wryly. “The next day at cross country practice the twins attacked Isaac. Scott intervened but before anything could really happen, the rest of us found another body. Killed the same way, but not a virgin apparently. Isaac was sure it was the twins, but I was sure it wasn’t. Scott wouldn’t take a side. The twins fucked with Isaac more - they got him detention and then locked him in a closet. He had severe claustrophobia after… well after his dad. Allison was in the closet with him. He nearly killed her accidentally. Scott there in time to stop him but that definitely sent him further to Isaac’s side on the whole evil twin thing. He, Isaac and Allison fucked with the twins’s bikes and got Aiden suspended.”

“I’m sorry,” Clint interrupts. “But can I just comment on how hilarious it is that the evil murdering alphas and you all were fighting each other using school rules?” He laughs. Phil smacks his leg, but Stiles bursts into laughter as well. The others grin and chuckle as well at the absurdity of the situation. Phil rolls his eyes before caving and smiling.

“Looking back it is a little ridiculous. But the twins were teenagers like us. We had been playing these games with bullies for years, so it was easier to play into the rules than to start having death matches in the hallways you know? Although the twins did try that. They had this ability - they could combine to form one giant super wolf. They attacked Scott and Isaac, but Deucalion showed up and stopped them. I guess he, Kali and Ennis attacked Derek and Cora. They told Derek to kill a member of his pack. And while all this was happening I went to the one person I thought would know what was happening - Deaton. I was with him when Lydia called saying she had found the music teacher’s phone. There was a recording that showed he’d been taken. Deaton, Lydia and I realized that he was the second in the next group of three - the warriors. We went to check on another teacher we knew that had a military connection - he had been taken as well. We figured out that there was a darach in town, a dark druid.”

Stiles stops and shakes his head. “Derek threw Isaac out. He was trying to protect him - it was pretty obvious, but he was a dick about it. Derek knew Isaac, knew exactly what buttons to push to get him out and Isaac - despite being a dick - he didn’t deserve that.” 

Phil desperately wants to point out the hypocrisy of Stiles believing that of Isaac but not of himself, but figures now is not the time. Stiles continues, unaware of his thoughts.

“Isaac moved in with the McCalls. I wonder if that is when I really started to lose Scott…” He whispers to himself at the end. None of the Avengers comment. Phil wonders if, like him, they understand that Scott was never truly the brother Stiles deserved. 

Stiles blinks out of his revery and continues. “Derek, Peter and Cora wanted to try and take out Deucalion. Scott… Scott has a very strict moral code.” Stiles says with a bitterness that makes Phil blink in surprise. “Scott thought he could talk to Deucalion, reason with him. He arranged a meeting. Derek followed him. Nearly everyone was there - the entire alpha pack, Scott, Derek, Isaac, Cora, Boyd, Allison. They fought. Derek and Ennis… they fell. Several stories. We thought they were both dead.” He swallows thickly before continuing. “There was an out of town lacrosse meet the next day. Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Ethan and I were all on the bus. Aiden was gone. Turns out Ennis hadn’t been killed by the fall but died later at Deaton’s. Scott had been injured in the fight and wasn’t healing. He blamed himself for Derek’s death and was subconsciously stopping himself from healing.”

Stiles shakes his head ruefully. “Allison and Lydia had been following us. I made coach let us pull over and Allison stitched Scott up in the bathroom of a rest stop. Once he thought he was healing, he healed just fine. The meet got pushed to the next day because of weather, and we ended up staying the night at the creepiest motel known to man.”

Stiles shudders. “While we were there all of the werewolves tried to kill themselves. Boyd laid down in a full tub with a safe on his chest. Ethan tried to use a saw on himself. Isaac was hiding under the bed when I found him, no idea what he was going to try. And Scott…” Stiles stops and has to close his eyes for a second. “Scott dumped gasoline all over himself and was standing in a puddle of it with a lit flare when we found him.”

“Jesus.” Phil breathes. “What happened?”

Stiles glances at him and Phil can see the tears pooling in his eyes. “We learned that heat could bring them out of the weird state they were in when they tried to kill themselves. We figured that out when I threw Ethan into a wall heater trying to keep him away from the tools. So we lit a flare and thrust it into Boyd and Isaac’s faces. With Scott….”

Stiles stops again and Phil can see the tears start tracking down his cheeks. Stiles lowers one hand to rest on top of Bucky’s where it is still lying on his foot. Bucky flips his hand and lets Stiles grip his and squeeze. “Lydia, Allison and I found him in the parking lot. He was saying all these things. About how there was no more hope, for him, for Derek. That being kept getting hurt, killed around him and it was his fault. He started asking me if I remember how life used to be before he got bitten. Back when we were nothing. Not popular, bad at lacrosse, not important. Back when we were no one.”

It takes everything in Phil not to interrupt. He knows he can’t. Stiles needs to get this out, he can’t break the thread of it, but it is nearly impossible not to. It’s so obvious that Stiles believes those words, believes they weren’t important, when he has always been one of the most important people in Phil’s life. 

“He said he wanted to be no one again. I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t just stand there and watch him destroy himself.” Stiles says almost desperately. Phil can see Bucky’s spare hand creep up to cling to the one Steve has clutching his shoulder. “I told Scott that he wasn’t no one. That he was my best friend, that I needed him. I told him he was my brother. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t watch. I stepped into the puddle with him.” Stiles is defiant now. “Told him that if he was going to do this he was taking me with him. I got close enough to take the flare from him and toss it out of the way. It started to roll back to the puddle, but Lydia saw it and tackled us out of the way.” Stiles lets out a shaky breath.

Phil is clutching Clint’s ankles like a lifeline. Stiles had been so close, so very close to dying, and for what? For an unbelievably selfish kid who didn’t deserve the loyalty Stiles laid at his feet. Scott McCall was in for a reckoning when Phil got his hands on the little bastard. 

Clint wraps his arms around Phil from behind and murmurs soothingly in his ear. “It’s okay, he’s okay.” Slowly, Phil releases his hold on Clint’s ankles and reaches up to grip his forearms instead. He forces himself to relax back into his partner’s hold.

Stiles sniffs and then continues briskly. “Lydia saw the darach in the resulting explosion. In return for us saving his life, Ethan told us that they thought Derek was still alive. It was true. Fucking bastard couldn’t even bother to send us a text or something. ‘Still alive.’ That would have been nice.” Stiles grumbles to himself for a moment before getting back on track. “Lydia figured out that the darach had put wolfsbane in coach’s whistle. Everytime he blew it the werewolves inhaled the wolfsbane. The darach used it to get in their heads, make them hallucinate, make them try to kill themselves.”

Stiles pauses, thinking. “I guess the next thing to happen was two doctors going missing on the same night. That same night Scott was dropping dinner off for Melissa when Ethan brought Danny into the ER.”

“Wait,” Pepper interrupts. “Why was Danny with Ethan?”

Stiles looks up in surprise. “Because they were dating. Shit did I not mention that part?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Whoops. Uh, yeah Danny and Ethan were dating and Lydia and Aiden were… well not dating but hooking up.”

“Why didn’t you stop them?” Steve asks. “If you knew they were dangerous?”

“Well first off, Lydia knew. And telling Lydia to do something is… well like telling Pepper or Natasha to. A dangerous proposition doomed to fail in a way that is probably going to hurt for you.” Stiles grins at the women, who respond with matching terrifying smirks.

Stiles laughs. “As for Danny, we didn’t want to drag him into the whole mess and short of explaining everything we couldn’t figure out a way to get him to stop seeing Ethan. So we just kept an eye on them. Anyway, the darach attacked Danny, and we knew it was the darach because he puked mistletoe all over the waiting room. Mistletoe is a commonly used plants in druidic practice. Melissa managed to save Danny, thank God. We couldn’t figure out why Danny got attacked though. He wasn’t a healer like the other two sacrifices from that group. But then Deaton got kidnapped. He managed to call Scott before he got taken, but not soon enough for Scott to stop it.” Stiles pauses. “Scott wanted me to tell my dad the truth about everything. I was terrified it would get him killed. I didn’t want to lose both of my parents. I couldn’t handle it. But even after Scott agreed with me, I knew I couldn’t be selfish. I agreed to tell Dad, but before we could Morell showed up. She told us Lydia should be able to find him. I found Lydia. Cora was with her, was threatening her about something. Cora and I tried to help Lydia tap into her abilities, but that was a frustrating waste of time. Oh, and while all this was going on, Boyd and Isaac were with Derek, turning his apartment into a flooded, electrified death trap for the other alphas. And Scott was having a terrifying conversation with Deucalion.”

“What the hell is your life, kid?” Tony asks, shaking his head. Stiles shoots him a shrug and a smirk before continuing.

“We realized that Danny was the piece we were missing. I went to the hospital while Scott went to go see Allison, who had figured out something. Chris had been tracking and marking everything in UV activated ink. He had more locations marked than there had been bodies found so we figured he had somehow figured out where the next bodies would be found. I found a paper Danny had been working on that was about telluric currents.”

“Telluric currents?” Sam asks.

“Geomagnetic fields. They flow through the Earth. Your friend was tracking them?” Bruce asks curiously.

“Yeah. He had a marked map. There are a shit ton of lines coming into Beacon Hills. It’s a regular Hellmouth. We compared Danny and Chris’s maps and figured out that Deaton was probably being kept in the vault where Boyd and Cora were trapped. We got word from Boyd that their plan had failed - the alphas had cut the power. The twins were with Kali. They had brought Ms. Blake - our English teacher - who apparently Derek was sleeping with. Go figure. Kali used Ms. Blake as leverage to get Derek to fight her one on one. Scott went to go save Deaton while the rest of us went to the loft to try and help Derek. Deaton was in the vault, but he was surrounded by mountain ash and Scott couldn’t reach him. My dad had managed to figure it out too though, and he got there in time to get Deaton down. Things didn’t work out quite so well at the loft….” Stiles trails off, eyes turned inward and impossibly sad. 

“We got back to the loft, warned Isaac that we were going to turn the power back on, try and shift the fight back to our favor.” Stiles says quietly, staring at his knees. “Isaac ran to protect Ms Blake from the twins while Boyd went for Derek and Kali. The three of them got caught in the current. While they were recovering the twins grabbed Derek…. They- they forced his hands up and Kali… Kali dropped Boyd onto Derek’s claws.” 

Silence falls on the room. Phil is trying to imagine the horror of having your own body turned into a weapon and used against someone you cared about. Then, with dawning horror, he realizes that two of those present don’t have to imagine. He tightens his grip on Clint’s arms that are shaking faintly, and stretches out to brush his foot against Bucky’s. No one speaks until Stiles begins again. 

“Kali gave Derek until the next full moon to kill all of his pack, or she would kill everyone herself. Derek was … broken. Disheartened in a way he never had been before. Not even when things got really bad. He took off. I went to Cora to see if she knew where he was. We needed him - he was in the middle of everything. Peter decided to embrace his creeper vibe and tell Cora and I the story of Derek’s first love… what changed him into the man he was. Back then, most of the alpha pack were in town with their packs - before they slaughtered them of course. A member of Ennis’s pack had been killed by hunters and he swore vengeance.”

“There is a lot of that going around, isn’t there?” Sam remarks.

“Hunters and werewolves tend to be really into the whole blood feud thing.” Stiles agrees. “This next part is… unclear. I heard it from Peter and I trust him about to the end of my nose and no further, so take it with a grain of salt. He said Derek was afraid of losing the girl - Paige - when she found out he was a werewolf. They arranged for Ennis to bite and turn Paige. Derek changed his mind when he heard Paige screaming and attacked Ennis. But Paige was already bitten. The bite didn’t take. She was dying, slowly and in pain. Derek killed her to put her out of her misery.” Stiles explains sadly. 

“Peter told me that the reason some werewolves have blue eyes instead of gold is that killing an innocent kills a part of your soul. Their eyes go cold and icy blue instead of the warm gold they begin with.” Stiles pauses and clears his throat. “Meanwhile, Deucalion was trying to arrange a peace summit with Gerard Argent. They met… and Gerard ambushed them. He murdered his own people and made it look like the werewolves had done it before killing all the werewolves and blinding Deucalion. That is what tipped Deucalion over the edge. He killed a member of his pack who tried to kill him. After that it was all downhill.” 

“Speaking of all downhill, pretty much everything that was currently happening in Beacon Hills went downhill faster than I would have believed possibly. One of the deputies was murdered. Tara. She used to help me. Then Cora declared a vendetta against the alphas for killing Boyd. She attacked Aiden at the school while me and Scott tried to talk to Ethan. We realized what was happening and stopped Aiden from killing Cora. She had gotten a good knock to the head before we stepped in though. I was taking her home when Allison called. She and Isaac had found a five fold knot with the names of the different groups of sacrifices listed: virgins, warriors, healers, philosophers and guardians. We thought the next group must be guardians because Tara was a cop, you know? So I didn’t have a choice anymore…. I had to tell Dad.”

Stiles stops and stares blankly at his knees. He is silent long enough that Bucky tugs the hand he is still grasping. “Hey, you ok?”

“What?” Stiles asks, startled. He looks around and sees them all watching him in concern and blushes faintly. “Sorry.”

“Take as much time as you need.” Sam assures him. 

“I just…. I tried to lay everything out for him, you know? I even labelled the players on a chessboard. But you have heard the story - it sounds insane. And I had nowhere near this long…. I had to condense it into like an hour. There was so much missing. He - He didn’t believe me. He got mad at me” Stiles whispers, tears lacing his voice. “I had Cora there and she was going to transform and show him but she collapsed before she could. We took her to the hospital. That’s when Scott called me. They had found the next sacrifice - it was our history teacher. It wasn’t guardians it was philosophers - Tara used to be a teacher. All the other teachers were going to a recital Ms Blake had arranged for all the loses. I tried to talk to Dad again at the hospital, tried to warn him. But he yelled at me. I told him Mom would have believed me as he walked away. I was angry - I lashed out. But I can’t blame him.” Stiles is crying again. “I don’t blame him for not believing me. I don’t think mom would have either. It just hurt. It hurt that he didn’t trust me. But how can I hold that against him when no one else would believe it either?” Stiles sobs.

“We believe you.” Steve says quietly, leaning over Bucky to grip Stiles’s shoulder.

Stiles turns wide, pleading, tear-filled eyes on him. “Would you have if Thor hadn’t said anything? If you didn’t have a collaborating witness? If you hadn’t seen the kinds of things that hide in the dark side of this world?”

“Yes.” Phil says firmly. He can’t let himself believe any differently. “I would believe you, Stiles.”

Stiles shakes his head. “No you wouldn’t.” 

“Stiles.” Phil waits for his nephew to make eye contact. “I swear to you - I will always believe you, no matter what it is.”

Stiles practically climbs over the chair to get to Phil. Clint releases him so Stiles has room to curl up in the chair with Phil. He then wraps an arm around the shaking teen. “Why couldn’t Dad?” Stiles breathes, just loud enough for Phil to hear. “Why didn’t he love me enough to believe me?” 

Phil’s heart breaks. “Oh, Stiles. It’s not about love. Sometimes… sometimes people get damaged in ways that make it hard for them to trust anything. I have seen it happen in my work time and time again. Your dad loves you, Stiles. He does. But he just couldn’t accept it. I’m so sorry.” Phil soothes his nephew, waiting patiently for Stiles to get this particular poisonous pocket out. Somehow, he has a feeling the biggest ones are yet to come. Phil just hopes there is still enough left to rebuild after they have cut away all the festering wounds.

It takes longer this time for Stiles to collect himself this time. Phil can tell he is starting to tire from the emotional upheaval of the day. But he will listen for as long as Stiles wants to talk. Eventually, Stiles sheepishly pulls away from Phil and slowly curls himself back in his own chair. He reaches down and drags Bucky’s hand back up, settling back into the story.

“Everyone went to the school to try and stop the darach before they could kill another teacher. Lydia got lured away. We couldn’t find her, but then Scott heard her scream. One of our teachers died in the recital - piano wire snapped and slit her throat. Dad… some part of him must have believed me, at least a little, or just questioned it, something - because he had gone to Melissa and asked her to look into old case files searching for someone who had been found slashed up and left for dead. We had thought the darach might have been an emissary to one of the alphas, and I told him that. He figured out who the darach was before any of us.” 

Stiles takes a deep breath. “He went to the school and confronted Ms Blake as she was trying to kill Lydia. She - she stabbed Dad in the shoulder before Scott and I got there. Scott tried to stop her but she was too powerful. She knocked him out and locked me out of the room. I just had to watch as she took Dad. Ms. Blake - Jennifer - just took him and disappeared.” Stiles shudders. “And I was useless as always.” He adds bitterly. Stiles continues before Phil can argue. 

“Scott and I went straight to Derek to warn him. Jennifer - she was using him, and we had to make sure to show him the truth. Sure enough she went running straight to Derek after leaving my dad. We used mistletoe to reveal her true form - which was disgusting by the way. It turns out she had poisoned Cora with mistletoe as well. I needed her alive to find my dad and Derek and Peter needed her alive to save Cora. She had played us all. There was a huge storm happening. They were evacuating the hospital. The four of us headed there to get to Cora. The alphas showed up. They wanted Jennifer dead. The twins attacked us in their voltron wolf form. We lost Jennifer in the fight. But she showed up again on her own and promised to help if we got her out of the hospital alive. Deucalion got ahold of Scott’s mom. That’s when we learned that Deucalion wanted Scott in his pack as well. Because of the potential he had - the potential to be a true alpha.”

“What is a true alpha?” Phil asks.

“A true alpha is one who does not gain their power by natural progression when the former alpha dies nor by stealing it from another alpha.” Thor explains. “A true alpha rises on strength of character. I must admit, after hearing your tale I am surprised that this Scott had this potential.”

Phil couldn’t agree more.

Stiles however, clearly doesn’t. “Scott?” He replies, surprised. “Scott’s as good as they come. He’s nearly too good if you can believe it. Of course he’d have the potential.”

“I think you’ll find most of us disagree with you on that.” Natasha says lowly.

Stiles looks confused but after a moment where no one else interjects, he slowly begins again. “Peter and Scott went to distract the twins while the rest of us made for the basement garage to meet an ambulance for Cora. When we got there though, Kali was waiting for us. She had killed the driver. I guess Jennifer used to be Kali’s emissary. Derek and Jennifer took off back into the hospital and I stayed with Cora. She-she stopped breathing. I managed to do CPR and get her breathing again, but she was getting worse and I was stuck alone in an ambulance that Kali had the keys for. Scott and Peter showed up not long after. Peter stayed with me and Scott went back to get Derek, Jennifer and Melissa.“ 

“Derek and Jennifer were trapped in an elevator when the alphas turned the power off. Jennifer explained why she was so creeper status on Derek. When he had killed Paige all those years ago, he had done it on the roots of an ancient druidic power source. A giant tree called a nemeton. Paige was a virgin. The tree considered it a sacrifice and it gained power from it. Power Jennifer used to stay alive when Kali tried to kill her. Jennifer had this notion that this tied her and Derek together somehow. She had sworn an oath to kill the alphas for what they had done to the emissaries. She planned to do it the night of the full moon - there was a lunar eclipse. During a lunar eclipse, werewolves lose all their power. She would be hyped up on sacrifice juice and the alphas would be wiped. She wanted Derek to help her.”

“I found out about all this later of course. At the time I was still trapped in the basement. Isaac, Allison and Chris had showed up and run into Scott and Melissa. They made a plan. Allison lured Kali and the twins out into an ambush of her and Chris. Meanwhile, Isaac came to the basement to get us. I realized then that the guardians didn’t just mean cops. What do all consent forms for minors say?” Stiles looks around. “Parent or Guardian.” Phil carefully controls his twitch at the word. Wonders if he should have told Stiles already. “I realized then why Jennifer had taken my dad… and who she would go for next.”

“Melissa.” Tony says quietly. Stiles nods.

“I took off to try to find Scott. I was too late. Scott had figured it out too. Deucalion got to Scott before I could. I arrived just in time to see them leaving. I tried to get him to stop but he… didn’t trust me enough to stay.” Stiles’s voice cracks. “I had to watch my brother betray us for the enemy for the second time.” He clears his throat roughly.

“I ran back to Derek and woke him up. I had to get him out of there before the police showed up. I sent him off and stayed to hold them off. The FBI showed up led by the head of the douchebag committee.” 

“Rafe?” Phil asks, surprised.

Stiles snorts. “Yeah. Scott’s dad.” He explains for the rest of them. Rafael McCall. A drunk bastard that pushed Scott down the stairs when he was a kid. Melissa threw him out. He showed up every once in awhile. Mostly made everyone miserable before leaving again. Anyway, it was a good thing I stayed because Jennifer had left us a message on the elevator doors. One name. Argent. I went straight there to warn him. I… I kinda started to lose hope at that point. It felt like everything was spiraling. Chris had to talk me down.”

Stiles looks down, ashamed. “You were dealing with a lot, Stiles.” Bruce says softly. “Everyone needs a little extra reminder sometimes.”

“Yeah. He had to give us another one about Scott. Both Allison and I were upset but he reminded us that Scott was just doing what he thought was right.”

Phil mentally adds Chris Argent to the list of people he’d like to visit and give a piece of his mind when he goes to Beacon Hills.

“Chris, Allison and Isaac went to try and catch Jennifer. At least that’s what we thought they were doing. Chris tasered Isaac and handcuffed Allison before turning himself over to Jennifer.”

“Why would he do that?” Pepper asks.

“I think he planned to let her take him to where she was holding Dad and Melissa. Then he would break out and free them. Didn’t work that way.” Stiles clears his throat and hides his face again. “I got the message from Isaac while I was at school with Lydia. I had a panic attack. She had all three now. She didn’t need to wait for anything else. She could have killed them already and I wouldn’t know.” 

Tony slides from his seat on the couch and crouches in front of Stiles. He nudges Stiles’s chin gently. “Hey. Trust me on this one. Panic attacks are nothing to be ashamed of. Do you know how many I’ve had since the Chitauri?” Stiles studies Tony through his eyelashes. Tony lets him look. Stiles nods slowly. 

“I got them a lot after Mom.” Stiles whispers, barely loud enough to hear from his seat. 

“They’re a bitch, aren’t they?” Tony replies at a similar volume. Stiles gives him a small smile. Tony nods and then bumps Stiles’s chin. “Chin up, kid. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” Tony stands and goes back to his seat. 

Stiles, head raised again, picks up his story. “Lydia and I went to try and talk to Morell. She was missing. Lydia went looking through her file and that’s when I realized it. Lydia had been drawing the same tree over and over. Not just a similar one, but the exact same one. And then I realized the drawing was upside down. It was the roots of a stump - not the branches of a tree.”

“The nemeton?” Phil asks, remembering what Stiles had called it earlier. Stiles nods. 

“Mr. McCall showed up at the school and wanted to talk to me about my dad. I sent Lydia to Peter and Derek to see if they could tell us where it was. But Talia had taken the memory of the location from them. Chris and Dad both knew the location, but that was obviously no help. Deaton showed up and got me away from Mr. McCall. Deaton knew a way for us to find it, but we needed Scott. So I arranged a meeting. Scott knew they were at the nemeton because Morell had told him, but he was going back to the alpha pack after we finished the ritual.”

“I pray you do not speak of the ritual I believe you to have used.” Thor interjects.

“One that involved Scott, Allison and I being surrogate sacrifices for our parents.” Stiles says bluntly.

“You what?” Phil asks blankly.

“Aye, that is the ritual I had in thought. That is dangerous magic, young one.”

“Trust me, I am well aware of the consequences of the ritual.” Stiles assures Thor. His eyes go blank and dark and when he continues his voice is flat. “We would die … and Deaton would try to bring us back. If it went off perfectly, we’d only be dead a few seconds. But in the process we would give power to the nemeton and create a beacon for the supernatural. It would also leave a darkness around our hearts - a scar from our ordeal.”

“Stiles, why?” Phil manages. Stiles lifts those haunted eyes to meet Phil’s.

“Because we were desperate. For Allison and I, our dads were the only parent we had living. For Scott, his mom might as well be. We couldn’t lose them. And we didn’t have time to find another way. We went to Deaton’s and filled three tubs with ice water and mistletoe. We each brought something that connected us to our parents. Then we were each given an anchor - someone with an emotional connection to us. They would hold us under until we died, and then they would be the one to bring us back essentially, using the connection. Deaton made Lydia be mine….” Stiles trails off and then murmurs to himself, “I wonder if that’s why it happened.” Before shaking himself and continuing. “Deaton was Scott’s and Isaac was Allison’s. Then… we did it.”

Phil can’t help his sharp inhale. Clint grip on him tightens. Phil can see the others shifting restlessly. They can see Stiles here in front of them, alive, but the knowledge that he died trapped under the icy water by someone he called a friend was hard to take in.

“We woke up in this room. It was all white and completely empty except for the three of us, the tubs of water, and the nemeton. We went over to it and Scott touched it. Then I was alone. In the woods the night Scott got bitten. I watched the two of us running through the woods, watched my dad catch me, and then I stumbled. It was the nemeton. It was right there. I woke up just as Scott and Allison did. We had all seen it, we knew where it was. But we could tell something was wrong by the way the others were watching us. Turns out we had been out for 16 hours.” 

Phil has to close his eyes. He can hear Thor cursing and pries his eyes open to peer at the god, who is looking more distressed than usual. “For the ritual to have taken so long is… unusual.” Thor explains. “The three were dead during that time frame, their bodies, minds and souls left vulnerable. It does not bode well.” 

Stiles gives a nearly hysterical laugh. “No. No it most definitely did not turn out well. But at the time we knew where to find our parents and we had only 4 hours before the moon rose. Scott wanted to go back to Deucalion. We tried to argue, but he wouldn’t listen to us. And then Deaton jumped in and said he thought Scott was right. That he should go back to Deucalion and use him as bait. That’s when Ethan showed up looking for Lydia. He wanted our help to stop Aiden and Kali from killing Derek.”

“That seems... out of character.” Steve says politically.

“Not really.” Stiles argues. “There’s a reason we had tried to talk to Ethan earlier. He actually did care about Danny. He and his brother had been abused by their pack before Deucalion showed up and taught them to stand up for themselves. They were with him because they owed him, not because they believed in his ways. We sent Lydia and Ethan to talk to the Hales. It turns out that while we were performing the ritual, Derek had used his alpha spark to save Cora. They were all fine, but Derek was weakened and a beta. He couldn’t have stood up against Kali. Peter, Cora, Lydia and Ethan convinced him to take Cora and run. To get out of town. Lydia and Ethan stayed behind to distract Kali and Aiden. Aiden actually cared about Lydia, and Ethan knew it. Before anything could happen, Jennifer showed up.”

“She killed Kali and then snapped the twins neck. She was summoning this huge storm. She got Lydia to scream. Derek and Cora heard and came back. Jennifer wanted Derek to act as her guardian. Said that if he helped her kill Deucalion she would let our parents live. So he went with her. The twins were still alive so Cora and Lydia took them to Deaton’s. He managed, but they lost their alpha spark in the process.”

“I had gone home to get something of my dad’s for the werewolves to use for scent. I was trying to head toward the nemeton and got caught in the storm Jennifer had created. A branch hit my car and I ended up running into a tree and knocking myself out. Useless as usual.” Stiles mutters angrily.

“Scott, Isaac and Allison headed to the Argents, where they found Scott’s dad and two of his coworkers. Allison pulled a smoke grenade and they ran. Scott went with Deucalion to face down Jennifer and Isaac and Allison went to find our parents. Chris had managed to sneak an emitter with him and set it off. Isaac was able to use it once they were close enough to find them. But the storm blocked them in and trapped them in the root cellar.”

“Jennifer, Scott, Deucalion and Derek met at distillery outside of town. Deucalion tried to get Scott to kill Jennifer. If he did, he would never become a true alpha. Scott had stolen some flash bombs from the Argents, and he set them off, blinding everyone - including Deucalion’s wolf. Then the eclipse happened. Derek tricked Jennifer into using her power to bring back Deucalion’s eyesight. It drained her of her powers to the point where she was too weak to kill Deucalion. Jennifer wasted the rest of the eclipse beating up Derek. Then she hid in a mountain ash circle.”

“I had woken up, and managed to get to the cellar in time to use my bat to hold up the beam that was collapsing.”

“Your bat?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah. I don’t have claws or fangs or anything, so I used to bring a baseball bat with me in order to have a weapon.”

“Why didn’t you bring, like, an actual weapon?” Tony asks incredulously.

“Because I am a teenager that can’t legally have possession of any and my dad is the sheriff?” Stiles responds like it should have been obvious. And well, yeah it might have been. “I could keep the bat in my car and no one would think twice. It was a perfectly good weapon…. But it could only do so much to keep Jennifer from burying us all alive. Scott knew he had to stop her, so he broke the mountain ash barrier… and became a true alpha in the process. Deucalion ended up killing Jennifer and put a stop to the whole thing. Scott and Derek just threatened Deucalion and let him go before coming to get us out of the cellar. Scott’s always believed in second chances … at least for the ones trying to kill us.” The last part is bitter and rage-filled but also dripping with sadness.

“We thought that was the end of it.” Stiles says with a broken laugh. “Thought we had succeeded and everything would be alright. Derek and Cora left town. They needed some time to process and try to reconnect. The rest of us tried to get on with our lives. It wasn’t that simple though. What we did…. It had consequences. More than we could have imagined… it.. We … I …” Stiles is beginning to hyperventilate.

“Stiles?” Phil asks cautiously, slowly pulling away from Clint. “Stiles calm down.”

Stiles shakes his head rapidly. “I can’t - I can’t - I don’t…. I need a minute. Just give me a minute.”

“Of course. You can have all the time you need.” Phil says soothingly. Stiles shakes his head violently though. 

“No, I need - I can’t…” Stiles rips away from Bucky and vaults over the back of the chair. He is in the elevator before the others can even get to their feet. 

“Stiles!” Phil says, concerned. Stiles shakes his head and the doors close on him dropping to his knees in the elevator. “JARVIS! Open the doors! JARVIS!” Phil calls, frantic.

“I’m sorry, Agent Coulson.” JARVIS does sound apologetic, but Phil’s fury increases at being denied. “Stiles requested maximum privacy.”

“Phil,” Clint says cautiously. “Let him go. He needs space. He’ll come back when he is ready.”

“But what if he hurts himself?” Phil demands.

“JARVIS would never let that happen.” Tony reassures, though he too looks frazzled by Stiles’s sudden disappearance. Actually, they all look unnerved and concerned, Phil realizes, glancing around. 

“Indeed.” JARVIS replies, sounding irritated. “I am monitoring Stiles closely. He is upset but has done nothing to harm himself. Until he does, I will respect his trust.” The AI finishes, voice hard.

That draws Phil up short. “I-” He falters, unable to form the words.

“It’s ok, Phil.” Steve says soothingly, gently turning him away from the elevator. “You’re worried. We all are. Stiles has told us some pretty heavy things without reacting. Whatever is making him react this way cannot be good, but he needs to process and approach us in his own time.”

The words coming from Steve have more weight and get through to Phil than they would have coming from anyone else. Steve had been forced to wait for weeks on end for Bucky to come to him. He knew the frustration Phil was feeling. Phil took a deep breath and shuddered. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry JARVIS, I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I know, Agent Coulson.” The AI responds softly. “I swear to you nothing will happen to Stiles under my watch.”

“Come on.” Clint says, interlacing their fingers and guiding Phil to the table. “Let’s just take the opportunity to relax and process ourselves, alright?”

Phil nods and follows readily. The others break off into small groups but remain on the floor, wanting to remain ready for whenever Stiles returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me a bit... haha. That's why I am breaking Stiles's story up into smaller pieces. It is a doozy of a story and giving it the attention it deserves takes time. 
> 
> You all know what's coming next.


	14. So If You're Out There Barely Hanging On

“JARVIS,” Stiles manages to croak as the elevator doors close. “Please…. Don’t let….” He falls to his knees, gasping. 

“I’ll keep them away.” The AI responds softly. “As long as you aren’t in danger. But that means you need to breathe Stiles.”

“Trying.” He gasps.

“I know. On my count. Breathe in… hold… exhale… hold… inhale…” Stiles concentrates only on the gentle pattern of JARVIS’s words, blocking everything else out. After several long minutes, Stiles no longer feels like he is suffocating. He pushes himself off his knees and sits in the corner, using the walls to hold himself upright. 

“Are you alright, Stiles?” JARVIS asks.

Stiles sighs. He lets his head thump back against the wall. “I don’t know.” He admits quietly. “This is the first time I have actually let myself think about this stuff. I have been pushing it away for so long… I guess it caught me off guard.” 

“Is this about what you have shared or what you have yet to?”

“What I am about to.” Stiles mutters. “This is the part where everything really changed JARVIS. I think no one really forgave me for what happened. I haven’t. My friends… they looked at me differently after this. What if that happens here too? I am not sure I can handle that. I let myself get too invested.” Stiles focuses on keeping his breathing even.

JARVIS waits until he’s calmed down to respond. “Your faith in these people in not misplaced, Stiles. They are good people. Ones who care about you a great deal. They will not turn from you… whether you decided to tell them or not. Every one of them has something in their past. They have been through rough times, done things they are not proud of. Some more than others. Several have portions of their history they close down and try their best to ignore. Not one of them will hold the fact that you do against you.”

Stiles screws his eyes closed. “But it’s… it’s really bad, JARVIS. The things I did, the things it made me do…”

“It… made… you… do?” JARVIS repeats slowly. 

Stiles considers a moment. If he can’t tell JARVIS, how he is supposed to tell the others? “There was … I got… I was possessed.” He spits finally. “It made me do things, terrible things. I hurt nearly everyone I care about. How am I supposed to live with the memories I have of my body not being my own? My friends couldn’t forgive me for something I had no control of. I don’t know how to reconcile it all.”

“Stiles, I have no experience with what you describe,” JARVIS remarks slowly, sadly. “But you are not alone in this experience here. There are those you have chosen to trust that know exactly how that feels. They can help you, if you let them.”

“Bucky.” Stiles breathes, understanding dawning. How could he have overlooked that?

“And Agent Barton.” JARVIS adds.

“Clint?” Stiles asks, squinting up at the ceiling in lieu of a concrete place for JARVIS. 

“Indeed. It is his story to tell of course, but I can tell you that Agent Barton is intimately aware of the type of guilt you are describing. Those two can help you learn to live with yourself, as they have, and the others all have experience in helping them. Trust the team, Stiles. I promise you they will not abandon you.”

Stiles sucks in a shuddering breath. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. I can do this. I can - wait. JARVIS, will it upset them to hear this?”

“Stiles, I can assure you - hearing the hardships you have endured is difficult on all of us. Just because it upsets us, however, does not mean we do not wish to hear.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. I just freaked out contemplating talking about this. Will Bucky and Clint be able to listen to it? Will it hit too close to home for them? I want them to know - I can’t keep all of this secret anymore - but I don’t want to upset them in the process.”

“I see.” JARVIS replies. He is silent for a moment as he considers. “I do not know the answer to that Stiles. It is possible that both could be pushed to a bad space by this, but it might also help to share that experience. Perhaps you should talk to them separately before? Just to give them a warning and see if they feel they can hear it?”

Stiles contemplates that. “Yeah that is probably the best I can do. If I… could you let them in? Just Clint and Bucky?”

“I believe so. Just a moment.” The AI goes silent. Stiles assumes he is talking to the others. Then JARVIS is back. “The others have agreed. I will open the doors and let Agent Barton and Sergeant Barnes into the elevator. The others will wait until you are ready to rejoin them.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

“Of course, Stiles. Let me know when you are ready.”

Stiles considers standing up, but decides it is easier to remain where he is. He takes a deep breath and scrubs both hands over his face before giving JARVIS the okay. The doors slide open silently and close immediately behind Bucky and Clint. Bucky folds himself to the floor when he sees Stiles sitting, close enough to touch if Stiles wants but not so close as to crowd. Clint follows his lead and settles as well. 

“What’s up, kid?” Clint asks. “JARVIS said you wanted to tell us something?”

“Yeah. I wanted to warn you. I, uh, it’s just…” Stiles huffs in frustration.

Bucky leans forward to place a hand on Stiles’s knee, broadcasting his intent in case Stiles needs space. Stiles scooches closer to them in answer. “What is it?”

“The next part of the story is… difficult for me to talk about. Difficult even to think about. And you two are the only ones who would understand why… and I wanted to make sure you would be okay if you listen to it.” Stiles hedges, inching still closer to the two men.

“Oh no,” Bucky breathes. When Stiles glances up, he finds Bucky watching him with a heartbreaking expression while Clint is using one hand to cover his face. He reaches out the other to lay on the knee Bucky hasn’t claimed.

“I got possessed.” Stiles says, barely audible. “It made me do terrible things to the people I love. Things they never forgave me for.” 

Silence reigns in the elevator for what feels like an eternity. Clint is the one to break it. He taps Stiles’s chin to make him look at him. “That scar on Phil’s chest? I was the one who planned and organized the attack that lead to that.”

Stiles gasps. Clint’s hand tightens on his knee before he continues. “I was being controlled, but I nearly got Phil and everyone else killed. I will tell you the whole story if you want it, though preferably not while sitting on the floor of an elevator.”

“And you know that I almost killed Steve, Sam and Natasha multiple times. There is a difference between what we are forced to do - what our bodies do - and what _you_ do. _You_ are not responsible. I and all of the others out there will never hold you responsible for things out of your control.”

Stiles swipes roughly at the tears tracking down his face. “I’d like… it would help if you guys could stay while I tell everyone what happened. But I can understand if you need to leave. Obviously.” Stiles says with an attempt at a smirk as he gestures at the elevator he is curled in the corner of. 

Both men glance at each other before turning back to Stiles. “Remember what I said about therapy? Both of us have started to work through our issues with this. Yeah, it’s still not fun, but I think I can handle hearing about your experience without getting trapped in the memories of my own.” Bucky says.

Clint nods. “Same here.”

Stiles slumps in relief. “Oh thank God. Clint I think Uncle Phil is going to need you. This is hard on him.”

“It’s hard on all of us kid. You especially.” Clint retorts.

Stiles shrugs. “If either of you need to leave, I’ll understand.” 

“We’ll tap out if we need to. Will you promise to do the same?” Bucky asks, refusing to let Stiles break eye contact.

“Yeah.” Stiles answers and swallows thickly. He tries to psych himself up. “No point in waiting any longer. This isn’t going to be any easier if I wait.”

“Are you sure?” Clint asks. “This floor is surprisingly comfortable.” He pats the floor next to him.

“I think your ass is just numb.” Bucky smirks.

Stiles smiles, the banter helping calm him down. Bucky stands and reaches a hand down to him. Stiles takes it, and ends up yelping and clinging to Bucky’s arm when he realizes his legs have gone to sleep in the time he was sitting on the floor. 

“Ow. ow ow ow ow ow.” Stiles moans as he tries to both move and get the blood flowing and stand completely still so as not to aggravate the pins and needles. That plan, unsurprisingly, does not work but it does help ease the tension further as Bucky and Clint laugh at his spastic twitching. Stiles sighs in relief when the pins and needles fade and he can stand upright on his own again. 

“JARVIS? I think we’re ready.” Stiles says. 

“As you wish, Stiles.” 

The doors slide open and the three move back onto the floor to find everyone turned to look at them. Stiles kicks the toe of his shoe against the floor, embarrassed. “Sorry.” 

“Incoming.” Clint mutters the warning just before Uncle Phil arrives. He doesn’t slow, just wraps Stiles up in a tight hug. Stiles clings back once again apologizing for taking off.

“Are you okay?” Uncle Phil asks him quietly, pulling back just enough to search Stiles’s face.

“Yeah, I just got a little overwhelmed. You’ll understand in a minute.” Stiles answers. He gives Uncle Phil another squeeze before releasing him and heading towards the living space again. The others had already started migrating back to their spots. 

Stiles stops when he gets there and considers if this is the best move or not before deciding fuck it. Instead of retaking the chair he had claimed earlier, Stiles drops onto the cushion on the floor that Bucky is on. He wiggles and pokes until he is wedged firmly under Bucky’s arm, who takes the rearranging with good humor. A look at Clint ensures that he and Uncle Phil take the chair Stiles had been in, leaving them both within easy reach. 

Stiles takes a deep breath and then dives into the explanation of the worst time in his life. “A few things happened after we got rid of the darach and the alpha pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small interlude before the next part of Stiles's story. Every time I thought about it, I just couldn't see Stiles having no issues moving on to the nogitsune without freaking out.   
>  
> 
> Up next - the nogitsune... for real this time haha.
> 
>    
> FYI the next couple of chapters might be slower coming out. This is kinda due to two reasons. The first is I think they are the really key components to Stiles's story. The nogitsune and then the whole Theo/Donovan thing are huge. I want to make sure they get the attention they deserve and I want to get it right. On top of that is the fact that I have a shit ton of family coming into town this week that I am supposed to be entertaining... writing time is going to be few and far between :( I hope you guys stick with me. I promise to do my best to post some this week.


	15. From Cutting Yourself With The Jagged Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to get out. Real life has been so crazy hectic I barely had anytime to write. But you get a long chapter out of it? Yes it took a week and a half but here is over 9000 words of pain and angst for you :)

“A few things happened after we got rid of the darach and the alpha pack.” Stiles begins. He looks much calmer now, Phil is pleased to note. He had been surprised when JARVIS had announced that Stiles wished to speak to Bucky and Clint alone. Surprised… and a little hurt. Phil is unsure what the three had talked about, and is trying to shove back the slightly rejected feeling lurking in his chest. He knows his nephew loves him, trusts him. This was not a reflection of that. Besides, whatever it was couldn’t have been good. Bucky and Clint had come out of the elevator looking tense and concerned, though they were covering it well. The new seating arrangements were more confusing. But Phil was more than happy to move closer to Stiles when Clint directed him to the chair. Phil hopes this doesn’t go as poorly as he is dreading.

Stiles continues in a thoughtful manner. “I guess the one I should start with is Malia. There were a few things happening simultaneously and her part is over fairly quickly until much later so let’s get that out of the way. After everything with the sacrifices, Mr. McCall didn’t leave town. He stayed… and started putting together a case to impeach my dad.” Stiles’s voice hardens with anger that Phil feels an echo of. 

“Dad was going through all his old unsolved cases. Now that he knew about the supernatural, he was trying to see if there were clues he had simply missed because he wasn’t aware. Malia’s in particular bothered him. Right after he became sheriff, a mother and her two children were killed when they drove off the road. The body of the older child - Malia - had been missing when they found the car. There were bites and scratches on the other bodies and the theory had been that coyotes had pulled Malia’s body from the car. But now dad thought that a werewolf might have been responsible for the crash and Malia’s disappearance because of the scratches, bites, and the fact that the accident occured on the full moon.”

“Scott and I decided to try and find the body. Instead we realized that Malia was a werecoyote. That she could full shift and had been living in the woods as a coyote ever since the accident. We actually managed to find her and Scott alpha-roared her back into a girl. My dad got to bring her back to her family after all those years. Although we learned later that they were actually her adopted family. Malia was actually Peter’s daughter.”

“Peter Hale? He had a daughter? He had a daughter he let be adopted and then go missing?” Tony asks, thinking as he questions.

“Peter didn’t know. Talia had taken the memory from him. That’s actually how we figured it out. Derek and Peter went to find Talia’s claws. Lydia was able to use them to find the memory. So, yeah there was yet another supernatural Hale running around, but for now she was safe with her human dad and we had bigger problems.”

Stiles takes a deep, steadying breath. “Allison, Scott and I were all being affected by the ritual we had done. Scott couldn’t control his shift. Allison was hallucinating Kate. She almost shot Lydia in the face thinking she was shooting Kate. And I… I started having nightmares. Really intense ones with so many layers that I started to constantly question what was reality and what wasn’t. You know how you can tell you’re dreaming? You can’t read in dreams. But I started to not be able to read at all.” Stiles voice has gone fast and the memory of the terror is easy to hear. “I started counting fingers to be sure I was awake.”

“Counting fingers?” Bruce asks quietly. 

“You have extra fingers in dreams. As long as I, or someone else, only had ten then I was awake. I felt like I was going out of my fucking mind.” Stiles’s voice is thick, and when Bucky tugs gently he turns and buries his face in the soldier’s shoulder for a long minute. Phil is back to holding on to Clint’s ankles. Stiles pulls his face back and sniffs before continuing. 

“There was this new girl, Kira. She overheard us talking about it all at lunch and told us it reminded her of Bardo.”

Bruce’s head comes up. “Oh.” He says curiously. “It really does sound like Bardo.”

“Someone want to explain for the rest of us?” Sam asks ruefully. 

“It’s a concept in Tibetan Buddhism. The state between life and death. It makes sense given the ritual and the hallucinations and such.” Bruce explains.

“That’s what Kira said. She did a bunch of research on it and gave it to Scott.” Stiles hesitates and shrinks back into Bucky. Steve reaches a hand down and places it on his shoulder. “I’ll do the best I can to tell things in a way that make sense but…. I am not sure about a lot of this. I was constantly trying to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. I was losing chunks of time. Things… got piecy. So try and bear with me.”

“Just tell us what you can.” Clint reassures him. 

“Well, the twins came back. They wanted to join Scott’s pack. We didn’t trust them though, so Scott told them no. They decided to start going to the high school again to try and earn our trust. Meanwhile, William Barrow escaped from the hospital. Barrow had blown up a school bus because he said the kids had glowing eyes and needed to be stopped.”

“Glowing eyes? Did he know about werewolves?” Steve asks in surprise. 

“That was our guess. He came to the school. We tried to find him, but had no luck. I realized later that night that he must have been hiding in the chemical storage closet - that’s why the others couldn’t catch his scent. Lydia and I went back to the school to check and sure enough the door was unlocked and there was evidence Barrow had been there. There were also three atomic numbers written on the board. Potassium, iodine and radium. When you look at the abbreviations…”

“Kira.” Tony says.

“Exactly. We went to Kira’s house. Scott had been having dinner over there. We found him knocked out in the street in front of the house and Kira missing. Lydia had been hearing a buzzing all day and she realized it was electricity that she was hearing. Barrow was an electrical engineer, so we took a guess and went to the power substation he had worked at. He had Kira there - he was going to electrocute her. Scott said that instead Kira managed to absorb the electricity. And I’m not talking about a little jolt. This was enough power that it should have killed anyone except big guy over there.” Stiles says with a nod at Thor. 

“She was a supernatural as well?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, but she had almost no idea until then. The one thing she did know was that when she took a picture of herself with the flash on, this aura thing appeared around her.” 

“What manner of creature was she?” Thor asks, intrigued. 

“We didn’t know at the time, but she’s a kitsune. All we knew was that there were pictures of it on her phone. So I helped her and Scott break it out of evidence lock up the next night. What we didn’t know was that the night of the power station Isaac got attacked as well. But he was attacked by five … things. Dressed all in black, wearing masks and with eyes the color of fireflies. Isaac said they came out of the shadows. It happened at the Argents’ and Chris asked him and Allison to keep it quiet for 24 hours while he looked into something. The next day was Halloween. Danny, Ethan and Aiden were throwing a black light party at Derek’s loft that we all went to. The things that attacked Isaac attacked Derek, Ethan and Lydia during the party. Whoever they attacked was left nearly hypothermic and with a brand behind their ear. Once Derek woke up he ended the party and threw everyone out. It was just the werewolves and Kira and the ones attacking everyone. The werewolves were pretty much useless against them, and they got Aiden too. They were going after Scott and Kira when the sun came up and they disappeared.”

Stiles grimaces. “I was told all that later, though. That morning I had found a new key on my keychain. At the party I realized it was glowing and this girl told me it could be chemicals. I had a suspicion and went to the school. Sure enough, the key was to the chemical storage closet … and the handwriting on the board directing Barrow to Kira was mine. But I… I didn’t remember doing any of it. I still don’t.” Stiles shudders and Clint frees one of his ankles from Phil’s grip and stretches to nudge Stiles with his toes. Stiles wraps his hand around Clint’s ankle as he returns it to the chair, and Phil covers his nephew’s hand with his own. He suddenly understands why it was Bucky and Clint that Stiles wanted to talk to. Phil just hopes what happened to his nephew was not on par with the experiences of the two men. 

Stiles’s voice is flat when he continues. “The next morning I tried to show Scott. Everything was gone. The key, the writing, all of it. Certainly didn’t help the question of my sanity. Scott told me to go home, take a sick day. I went to the hospital instead. I talked to Melissa, told her everything - the blackouts, sleepwalking, anxiety, panic attacks, the reading, irritation. She gave me a sedative and told me I needed sleep…. But she really thought it might be something else.”

Phil has been concentrating on keeping his breathing even. He has to clear his throat a couple times before he can say the words. “Those are the symptoms your mom had.”

Stiles nods. Everyone else is quiet and solemn at the words. Stiles continues in a quiet voice. “While I was at the hospital, Scott, Kira, Derek and the twins were preparing for nightfall. They didn’t know if it was Kira or Scott that was the next target but they all went to Scott’s. Kira had been researching and guessed that she was a kitsune. So going off the assumption that they were after supernatural creatures they could both be at risk. Deaton had lined Scott’s entire place with mountain ash, so once Melissa got home and finished the line it would hopefully keep the things out. The things did attack. Scott’s dad got stabbed by them before they could get the line closed and then it was a standoff.”

“Chris, Allison and Isaac had spent the day trying to track down Chris’s lead. He had run into the things before, on a gun deal with the Yakuza when he was 18. One of the men who survived was in town. The three managed to talk to him. He told them that the things were Oni. Japanese demons. You can’t fight them. The Oni were testing everyone - not attacking. They were looking for someone who was possessed by a dark spirit. A dark kitsune called a nogitsune or void. Nogitsunes feed on pain and chaos, tragedy and strife.” Stiles’s voice is dead, hopeless and haunted.

“Oh, Stiles.” Phil breathes. 

Stiles gives a hysterical laugh. “You can guess who it was can’t you? Allison told Scott to let the Oni in and let them test him and Kira. They both passed obviously. I woke up in the hospital alone. I went to find Melissa. Found the Oni instead. I was terrified. And then… it was like something took control. I was there, I remember it but I wasn’t driving anymore. I destroyed all three of them. And then it was like I woke up. It seemed like a dream. I was alone and in total control… I thought I had imagined the whole thing. So I didn’t say anything. Just went with Scott when he found me.”

Clint clambers off the back of the chair after gently prying lose Phil and Stiles’s hands. He sits next to Stiles but doesn’t say a word. Just leans against Phil and laces his fingers through Stiles’s. “The next thing to happen was me waking up with no idea where I was. I knew it was a basement and it was freezing and my leg… my leg was caught in a trap. I could hear someone else moving around. I called Scott and told him all of that. I made him promise not to tell Dad, but to come find me. Then my phone died. I guess Lydia’s power spiked - she knew I was missing. That convinced Scott to tell Dad anyway. They found my jeep at the hospital but I wasn’t there. Lydia thought I was in the basement of the local mental institution, Eichen House. I wasn’t. Wherever I was there was someone else down there with me. He was covered completely in bandages, like a mummy. He started talking to me, kept referring to us. Saying we needed to get out, that they were trying to keep us from dying. The trap on my leg kept switching legs. I didn’t know what was happening. He was asking me riddles, got really insistent when I didn’t know one of the answers. Kept asking me over and over and over. Then he grabbed the trap and started dragging me and… I woke up. Screaming with Melissa and Mr. McCall trying to calm me down. I had been asleep the whole time. Mr. McCall figured it out.”

“Jesus, kid.” Tony said quietly. “That’s rough.”

“That’s what pushed Melissa to talk to my dad about my symptoms. He already had the same suspicions. They decided to do some tests. They didn’t tell me, but I knew what they were looking for. It terrified me. I couldn’t … I couldn’t put my dad through that again. Couldn’t make him live through me acting like Mom had. And.. I didn’t want to die.” Stiles says pleadingly. “I didn’t want to forget the people I cared about. It was … terrifying.” He finishes helplessly before turning to bury his face in Bucky’s shoulder again. He is shaking, and Phil can’t help but lean forward and thread his fingers through Stiles’s hair. He rubs the nape of Stiles’s neck until the shaking eases and his nephew can pull back to face them all again. 

“They were doing an MRI.” Stiles whispers hoarsely. “Found exactly what they would expect to see with frontotemporal dementia. I started to get really uncomfortable before I opened my eyes and I wasn’t in the MRI anymore. I was standing there talking to the mummy guy -the nogitsune. He told me they were going to destroy everyone I loved. Then he asked me the riddle again and again and again as he unraveled the bandages. I looked back and underneath all the bandages it looked just like me. He took over. I remember all of it. That thing took over my body and used me like a puppet.” Stiles spits, shaking violently. “He used me and he made me remember everything. I could just watch.” 

Clint’s knuckles are white with how hard he is gripping Stiles’s. His other hand is wrapped around Phil’s ankle, trying to ground Phil. It is not enough and Phil slides out of the chair to join the group huddled on the floor. Stiles’s fingers bunch in his jeans where his leg passes him. Stiles keeps talking, voice harsh and horrified. “He took off from the hospital. He had tampered with a power line when I was sleepwalking…. That’s why my jeep was at the hospital. Cut all the power to the hospital and used the distraction to walk right out. Isaac got caught in the chaos- electrocuted himself and ended up in the hospital. Kira managed to contain the electricity before too many others got hurt. The nogitsune spent the next two days setting up traps all over town. Foxes - kitsunes- they are all tricksters. They enjoy the game more than anything and he was fucking playing with all of us. He sent my dad a text telling him not to look for me. Then when he was ready he went to the school. Lured Scott and the twins to the basement with one of Chris’s emitters. Then he… he -fucking … he -” Stiles is shaking too hard to continue.

Phil moves to sit in front of Stiles, framing his nephew’s face with his hands. He waits until Stiles makes eye contact and then holds it. “Breathe.” Phil orders, using all his control to bring up his handler voice, the one assets can’t help but obey in the field. It works here too. A little too well Phil notes with distant amusement, catching everyone in the room taking the deep breaths he is directing Stiles to. He continues to exaggerate his breathing until Stiles has stopped shaking and slumps back into Bucky’s side. Phil eyes him for a moment before moving to head back to his spot. Stiles’s hand snaps out to grab his arm before he can get far. The look in his nephew’s eyes has Phil settling more comfortably where he is. Studying the situation, Phil realizes that Stiles has managed to completely cocoon himself in Avengers. Phil huffs a half amused laugh as his eyes travel from Bucky and Clint wedged on either side of Stiles to Steve bracketing Bucky and Stiles with his long legs on the couch behind them, and finally to himself, settled in front of them. Sitting on the floor is not something Phil tends to do much at his age, but if it makes Stiles’s happy Phil is more than willing to put up with a sore back.

When Stiles begins speaking again, the mania of his earlier ranting is replaced by a dullness that is almost harder to hear. “He pretended to be me. This me, I mean, unpossessed me. Tricked everyone into thinking I had ‘woken up’ and couldn’t remember the last two days. They believed him. He convinced my dad, my brother, everyone that he was me.” Stiles shudders, eyes gone dark and bewildered. 

“My brother…” Thor interjects softly, hesitantly. “Loki is a trickster of a kind similar to this nogitsune. He could make my own mother - a strong magic wielder herself - believe him to be me, her son. Tricksters… acting is the ultimate trick is it not? They have a special talent for deceiving.”

While Phil usually attempts to shut down any and all talk of Loki - too many of the team react negatively to the trickster god’s name alone - this time he is grateful for Thor’s input. Stiles is staring at the thunder god with an almost desperate need to believe. Clint, though paler than Phil would like, is rubbing a hand up and down Stiles’s arm and gives Thor a grateful nod. 

Stiles clears his throat and sniffs but nods. “Well they definitely all believed me. I told them that I had found a bag -”

“He.” Steve interrupts firmly. Stiles twists his head around to look at the soldier in confusion. “He.” Steve continues. “He told them that he had found a bag. It wasn’t you Stiles. You aren’t responsible.”

“I-” Stiles’s voice cracks and he burrows into Bucky’s shoulder again for a long moment before pulling back and nodding at Steve. “He told them that he had found a bag. It was full of nasty supplies - rope, chain, wire, tools… and a map of the electrical layout of the hospital with my handwriting as well as a map of the preserve with the cross country trail marked. They all went to try and stop practice. The nogitsune had laid a false trap for ‘me’ to ‘find’. Coach sprung the real trap once everyone thought it was safe - took an arrow to the gut. Then the twins found a bag of supplies necessary for the bomb that Barrow used in my jeep. They got everyone off the buses except one kid who had picked up a ‘present’. It wasn’t a bomb. It was a box with my dad’s work nameplate in it. I had -” Stiles shakes his head. “The nogitsune had sent the real bomb to the sheriff's station. He had also framed Chris and Derek for the murder of the yakuza who had told us about the Oni. I killed him really. He knew too much.” Stiles’s voice is detached, hollow. Phil swallows heavily and wonders if he should interrupt. Bucky makes the decision for him.

“Hey!” Bucky snarls, snapping his fingers just in front of Stiles’s face. Stiles startles badly and the blankness dissipates from his face. Bucky’s voice gentles as Stiles turns to him with wide eyes. “Don’t get lost. You are here with us. You are safe. You aren’t him. Convey the story but stay on the surface of the memories - don’t submerge yourself in them.” Stiles looks terrified and Bucky shakes him softly with the arm around his shoulders. “We won’t let you get lost. We won’t let you hurt anyone, okay? I promise.” 

Phil looks at the seating arrangement with new eyes. Yes, Stiles is surrounded by people he trusts to protect him and keep him safe… but the flip side to that is that he trusts them to be able to stop him if necessary. Phil’s heart breaks a little more and he places a hand on Stiles’s ankle, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. 

“They didn’t catch the bomb in time.” Stiles says, voice quiet and heartbroken. “Killed a lot of good cops, but Derek saved Chris. The nogitsune… it had my memories. Not all of them - I was still fighting him at that point, but enough to be wary of Chris and Derek. That’s why he tried to take them out. He made sure my dad was out though - he knew it would be more fun to play with us later that way.” Stiles’s voice is bitter. “Kira happened to catch her parents talking. Her mother was a kitsune and was the one responsible for summoning the Oni. She saw her summon more of them and came to warn us. She and Scott and I headed for the animal clinic since it was lined in mountain ash. The Oni showed up just as we got there. Scott and Kira fought them off to give me time to get inside. Scott got stabbed by one of their swords. Kira and I got him inside.”

Stiles shudders violently and when he speaks again his voice is thick. Desperation, agony, horror, and helplessness compete for dominance in his tone. “He knocked Kira out as soon as they were inside. Then I - he - I twisted the sword inside Scott. He was angry that Scott had been taking pain all day instead of letting him have it. So he - he hurt Scott and took the pain. He just kept twisting… I - I - I know what it feels like to torture someone. I tortured my best friend.” Stiles is holding his hands in front of himself, staring at them blankly as he curls into himself. 

Clint reaches out to gently enfold his hands. “It’s not fair that you are forced to live with the memories of what he made you do. But he made you do that. You were being tortured along with Scott, Stiles. Remember that. You are a victim, not the villain.”

“He’s right.” Steve says quietly. “What you did when he had you - it wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.”

“I know.” Stiles says quietly. “But I did it.” Bucky inhales sharply. Stiles looks up to meet his gaze and Phil can see the understanding pass between them. Stiles nods slightly and then collapses into the soldier. Bucky wraps both arms around Stiles, who is burrowing into him with hitched breathes. Clint releases Stiles’s hands. Stiles wraps one of his arms around Bucky, clinging to him fiercely, but uses the other to drag Clint in. Clint huffs a watery laugh as he ends up curling around Stiles’s back. Bucky rearranges so his arm is wrapped around the archer as well. Steve is gently running the fingers of one hand through Bucky’s hair as the other presses soothing touches to both Clint and Stiles. Phil mirrors the actions, rubbing a hand along Stiles’s calf while the other meets Clint’s searching hand and entwines their fingers. 

The others let them have the quiet moment. Sam quietly gets up and moves to the kitchen. Natasha joins him once she notices and the two softly set about making a batch of herbal tea. They load it on a tray when it is finished and bring it to the living room. Everyone accepts a mug. While it is not Bruce’s calming tea - none of them willing to risk the sedative properties at such a time - it is one of the ones Bruce keeps on hand to help calm nerves. By this point they all need it. Phil accepts his with a grateful smile. Moving his hand from Stiles’s leg rouses the teen enough to notice the new beverage. Natasha hands him a separate mug - one containing a mix designed to help soothe throats as well as nerves - and Stiles accepts it without hesitation. This leads to Bucky, Clint and Steve following his lead and accepting their mugs. Everyone sips quietly for a moment before Stiles begins in a hushed tone. 

“Deaton was smarter than the fox though, at least then. He injected me with letharia vulpina. It’s a lichen that is poisonous to foxes and wolves. It paralyzed the nogitsune. I was in charge of my body again… for as long as the poison lasted. Everyone was looking for answers. Deaton was going through his stuff, Chris was reaching out to his contacts, Dad.. dad was going to see a specialist in LA about my MRI. I made him put me in Eichen House while he was gone. 72 hour hold.”

“You checked yourself into that place?” Tony asks, sounding horrified. Phil is not sure he wants to know what Tony has uncovered about it if that is his reaction. Stiles merely shrugs however. 

“Like I told Scott - I couldn’t hurt anyone in there. I made him promise that if they didn’t find a cure, I never got out.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Clint swears under his breath. 

Stiles glances at him. “I wasn’t going to let myself hurt anyone if I could help it. And I couldn’t ask them to kill me. I couldn’t let them have that guilt. Better I be locked up in that place. I found out that Malia was there. She punched me in the face by way of greeting.”

“Why?” Pepper asks, surprised. “You helped her.”

“That’s what we thought. She hated it though. She was happy as a coyote. We forced her back to human, back to the guilt and pain of knowing she had attacked her mother and sister on the full moon when she shifted…. And worse we had trapped her there - she no longer had control of her shift. So punching me in the face was pretty tame actually. But when I fell I fell on a grate, one I recognized but from a different angle. I had seen it before - when I was sleepwalking. The basement I thought I had been trapped in had the same grate. I needed to get in there and figure out if it was really the same place. I also found someone else lurking in Eichen House - Mrs. Morell. She saw this mark on me… I forget what she called it but I guess it is something you see with lightning strike victims.”

“A Lichtenberg figure?” Bruce asks curiously.

Stiles nods. “That’s it. The mark spread from the site where Deaton injected me. Morell said that as long as the mark was there I would be in control. She gave me amphetamines to help me stay awake - sleeping would leave me vulnerable. Then she told me that if no one had found an answer by the time the marks were gone… well she was coming for me with different drugs. Ones usually enjoyed by death row inmates.”

“That bitch.” Phil swears viciously. Stiles casts a half-hearted smirk his way.

“I didn’t want to be possessed again. And I didn’t want to die. But I also didn’t want to hurt anyone, so I couldn’t really argue. But back to the basement, I needed the keys off of the head orderly Brunski to get in. I got my roommate Oliver and Malia to help me steal them. Brunski caught me trying keys to the basement door. They put me in solitary and…. They sedated me. I tried to fight it, tried to stay awake but the drugs were too strong. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten caught….” The last part is a whisper. 

“Malia got in and woke me up. We snuck into the basement another way. It was the same basement from my nightmare. Somehow I had been there. Lydia was right. Malia and I started to go through the papers down there, looking for some connection or maybe something to help or… I don’t know. What Morell didn’t tell me was that the poison wasn’t an all or nothing deal. I thought I was safe as long as the mark was there… but once it started to get close to being gone the nogitsune started fighting back for control of my body. It.. He… we.. um Malia kissed me and then… I … it gained control and… he… I… it… we slept together…”

Phil clenches his eyes shut, breath catching as he listens to his nephew stutter through an explanation of what he can only describe as a rape. The looks on the others’ faces when he opens his eyes tells Phil they feel the same way. Stiles doesn’t seem to realize this though, and carries on with his story. Although, the way he is nervously twisting his hands and speeding up his words gives Phil the idea that maybe Stiles was more concerned about what the nogitsune did next.

“Malia figured out that the wall was hollow. I was myself again by that point and I broke the wall and behind it was the same body I had been seeing in my head. It was the nogitsune. Malia found a picture on the body. It was from the ‘40’s, but one of the people in the picture was Kira. I knew I had to get it to Scott, but before we could do anything else Oliver attacked us. When we had been stealing Brunski’s keys he had stolen his stun gun and sedatives. He stunned both of us and restrained us in some chairs. The nogitsune had been controlling Oliver. The poor guy was his fucking Renfield. The nogitsune offered me a choice.” Tears are once again making their way down Stiles’s face. He sobs once before continuing. “I could surrender myself to him, let him in and not fight… or I would have to watch Oliver drill a hole straight into Malia’s head. I…” Stiles sobs and shakes his head. “I let him in.” He breathes, voice dripping with guilt. “I let him in. I let him in. I let him in, I let him in, I let him-” 

“Stiles!” Phil breaks into the increasingly panicked repetition. “You did what you had to. You couldn’t let him hurt her. That’s just who you are.”

“But maybe if I had fought I could have kept him out!” Stiles sobs.

“And then Malia would be dead.” Natasha says softly.

“But maybe Allison and Aiden would be alive!” Stiles moans before dissolving into heaving sobs. Phil blinks in shock and then dawning horror and sympathy for his nephew. 

“Phil,” Bruce cautions, leaning forward and watching Stiles with concern, “He is going to make himself sick. You need to calm him down.” Phil looks at the man helplessly, unsure if he even knows where to begin with that task. Bruce’s eyes are compassionate and filled with understanding but his voice is firm and unyielding. “You are probably the only one who can get through to him. Calm him down, Phil.”

Phil nods and turns back to his nephew. He can see what Bruce means - Stiles’s sobs are whole body heaves at this point, nearing the tipping point of turning simply to heaves. Phil gets closer to Stiles and then reaches out. Bucky carefully helps transfer Stiles into Phil’s arms. Stiles startles a bit at the movement, but manages to catch sight of Phil through his tears. “It’s okay, Stiles. Come here, I’ve got you.” Phil murmurs. 

Clint and Sam both reach out to help steady Phil when Stiles hurls himself into his arms. Stiles curls himself into a Phil’s lap, burying his face in Phil’s neck and clinging to him hard enough that Phil is fairly certain he is going to have bruises. Phil wraps his arms around his nephew and lets him cling, rocking them slightly and murmuring into Stiles’s hair. Phil rubs a hand up and down Stiles’s back firmly, regulating the motion with his breathing in an attempt to coax Stiles out of his heaving sobs. It takes longer than any of them would like for Stiles to back away from that point and reduce to just tears, but Phil doesn’t rush him, afraid of worsening the situation. Eventually, Stiles quiets in his hold, still crying but too exhausted to do much more.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles.” Phil murmurs, once Stiles is actually calm enough to hear the words he is saying. “You didn’t know what would happen. You were just trying to do the right thing. And you can’t know what would have happened if you let him kill Malia. It might not have changed anything but added another death to the guilt you insist on carrying. It isn’t your fault. I’m so sorry you were forced into that choice.” 

“I should have been strong enough to keep him out.” Stiles croaks.

“No, young one.” Thor answers gravely. “The nogitsune must have attacked while you were vulnerable during the ritual. You could not have prevented it.”

“Why me? Why did it chose me instead of Scott or Allison?”

“Likely due to your Spark.” Thor answers, surprisingly Stiles enough that he lifts his head. “As I indicated before, you are incredibly powerful young one. The nogitsune would likely have been drawn to that power. However, it was that power that kept him at bay for so long.”

“I didn’t - “ Stiles begins to protest, but Thor clearly expects this and interrupts before he can.

“It is my sincere belief that had the nogitsune targeted either of your friends, he would have had complete control within the week.” There is no doubt in Thor’s voice, and Stiles stares at him in shock. “You fought valiantly against a foe with centuries more experience than you.” The demigod explains gently. “What you have told us has left me with great respect for your abilities.”

Stiles is looking at Thor with somewhat dazed eyes. He blinks owlishly before turning back to look at Phil, who can’t help but smile at the teen, though his heart is aching. “You are extraordinary, Stiles.” Phil says quietly. His nephew looks overwhelmed and exhausted and Phil glances at the clock worriedly before looking back to Stiles. “How are you doing? Should we take a break?”

Stiles shakes his head vehemently. “I need to finish, I need to get it out while I am thinking about it and be done. I can’t stop knowing I will have to continue later.”

“You don’t have to continue later.”

“I do. I need to tell all of it.” Stiles insists.

“Okay,” Phil yields. “So what happened next?”

Stiles doesn’t move out of Phil’s arms, but he does rearrange himself so he can stretch his legs out to tangle with Clint and Bucky’s. “I don’t know a lot of what happened next. I was trapped inside my head. It was that white room I saw during the ritual, with the nemeton randomly in it. I was there with the nogitsune, playing some game. And after… well after no one really wanted to talk to me about it so I only have what I have managed to piece together.”

“Kira and Scott went to talk to her mom. She is apparently the one who called the nogitsune in the first place back in the ‘40’s… it was her in the picture Malia and I found. But then she regretted it and trapped the nogitsune. It didn’t take kindly to that and that is why it was doing all this now. It was pissed. The nogitsune tricked my dad, Chris, Derek and Allison into coming to the loft to protect it… me… whatever from the Oni. They fought and then both the Oni and I disappeared. Lydia and Aiden found my body in a parking lot the next day with a gash across my stomach. They took me to Scott’s house and paralyzed me with kanima venom. They had found a scroll that said they could get rid of a nogitsune by changing the body. Scott thought they might be able to turn me into a wolf and cure me, but they weren’t sure if it would work or kill me. They couldn’t get ahold of Derek and so ended up calling Peter. Peter realized that they needed to get into my head - not my body. He showed Scott how to use his claws to get into my mind… and how to bring Lydia along for the ride. All I know is that one second I was sitting there with the fucking nogitsune and then I heard Scott roar.”

Stiles smirks humorlessly. “I’ll spare you the disturbing details of how, but when I heard Scott I could fight back. It ended with me and the nogitsune splitting into two separate bodies. While the others were distracted helping me, the nogitsune took Lydia and ran.”

“I needed to know if I was really me or not. I was super weak, but Melissa checked me out and declared me real. They were all… terrified of me. Melissa could barely bring herself to touch me long enough to check my pulse.” The ache of that rejection still lurks in Stiles’s voice and Phil tightens his hold in response. Stiles doesn’t react beyond leaning more into Phil. “I made Scott get Kira’s mom so the Oni could check me.”

“Stiles, that could have killed you!” Pepper interrupts, horrified.

Stiles shrugs. “At that point I didn’t care. Kira had the same argument. But I passed. I was me again. We needed the Oni to find the nogitsune and Lydia but had to wait till the next night because it was too close to dawn. Scott and I went to see my dad. We were trying to figure out a way to find Lydia and something my dad said reminded me of this girl from Eichen House. Her name was Meredith and she had been moved to the closed unit because apparently she wouldn’t stop screaming.”

“Banshee?” Bruce asks.

Stiles nods. “My dad went to Eichen to talk to her but she had escaped. Everybody was out looking for her or Lydia, but Scott took me back to his house. Whatever the nogitsune had done to split us up… I think overall there was only a limited amount of energy or life force or whatever. Conservation of energy or something. I was… not great. I was freezing, weak, and I hurt… everywhere. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was getting worse too.” Stiles shudders and Phil buffs a hand over his arm quickly, like he needs to be warmed up. It seems to help, as Stiles curls into Phil more but loses some of the tension coiling in him. 

“Meredith showed up at the high school. It took a bit but we were able to get some phrase out of her. It meant nothing to Isaac or me, but I guess it had been a part of Kira’s mom’s story to Scott. We figured that meant the nogitsune and Lydia would be at the internment camp where she had first called the nogitsune. We all headed over there. I made Scott and Isaac promise to not let anyone else get hurt because of me. They were concerned that if they hurt the nogitsune it would hurt me. I didn’t care. I just wanted him stopped.”

Phil has to bite his lip to keep from saying something. How could his nephew be so selfless and how could the people he claimed as friends not see it? It infuriated Phil.

Stiles doesn’t notice his internal struggle and continues, though his voice is getting softer, grief threatening to consume the words. “Isaac, Kira and Allison went to confront Kira’s mom and the Oni. Scott and I went after Lydia. The nogitsune did something to give him control over the Oni. He took them and attacked Allison, Kira and Issac. Lydia was so upset when we found her. She knew, she had tried to warn us, but we didn’t listen….”

Stiles stops and swallows thickly. “We tried to go back to the others. I… I tried to keep going but it was too much - the pain, the weakness… I collapsed. Lydia stayed with me. Scott kept going… he - he got there -” Stiles is choking on his too fast breath. Before any of them can intervene, Stiles forces himself to take a deep shuddering breath and closes his eyes. Phil can feel him fist one hand in the back of Phil’s shirt, while the other gropes blindly in the direction of Clint and Bucky. Clint catches it and links their fingers together. Bucky wraps a hand around Stiles’s knee. Stiles leaves his eyes closed when he continues in a voice devoid of any inflection.

“Allison managed to kill one of the Oni. And then one of the others stabbed her before they and the nogitsune took off. Scott got there in time to catch Allison. She died in his arms.” 

“Jesus.” Tony breathes, the only sound in a room gone completely silent. Stiles continues in the same flat tone, face blank. It is starting to concern Phil, but he remembers Steve reacting the same way when he first came out of the ice. The emotions, the memories had simply been to much for the soldier to process, so he forced all of them away. Phil decides to let Stiles continue unhampered for now. He resolves to intervene only if Stiles doesn’t pull out of it on his own once the story is over.

“Chris coached Isaac, Scott and Lydia on a cover story. The went to the police while Kira and her mom took me with them. Kira’s dad said that we needed a divine move. I guess they had told Kira about the nogitsune using a game called Go. In the game a divine move is an out of the box move. Kira’s mom said that she was able to trap the nogitsune by burying it under the nemeton. Deaton knows more about that thing than anyone, so Scott and Lydia went to talk to him. Deaton said we might be able to trap the nogitsune in something made from the nemeton. Peter had a box that Deaton had made. Derek got the box and planned to meet us. I could tell that we were running out of time. I made Kira take me to the clinic to meet up with them. Lydia had the same feeling I did. Chris and Isaac figured out that Allison had killed the Oni using a silver arrowhead. I guess silver is poisonous to them, but it has to stay in the body - silver bullets don’t work. Allison had made four more arrowheads - we had a way to kill them.”

Stiles opens his eyes finally. “Everybody headed to the high school to find the nogitsune. He trapped Scott, Kira, Lydia and I in some kind of illusion. The nogitsune wanted me to do this ritual that samurais used to. I was dying anyway. He said that he would kill everyone I cared about unless I disemboweled myself and Scott cut off my head.”

“What the fuck?” Tony demands. “Why?!”

Stiles shrugs. “He said it would win the game. I was going to do it. I couldn’t let anyone else die. I had Kira’s sword against my stomach, when I saw a reflection of a book in the sword. I realized it was an illusion. I told the others and we managed to get out. The nogitsune was waiting for us though. He knocked Scott and Kira out and was coming after Lydia and I. We knew something he didn’t though. He had forgotten about the scroll that said we could change the host. Scott snuck up behind him and bite him and then Kira stabbed him. It was how Kira’s mom had trapped him the first time so we were pretty sure it would work…. Just not sure if it would kill me in the process. Isaac got there with the box just in time to catch the nogitsune fly as it tried to escape. The second body disintegrated and I passed out. Scared the hell out of everyone but I wasn’t out long. I felt completely fine after I woke up.”

Stiles sighs. “We didn’t know it but the twins, Derek and Chris had been fighting the Oni while we were in the school. They killed them all, but Aiden got stabbed. He died just like Allison. But it was over. We had done it.”

Stiles falls silent, staring into the middle distance blankly. Phil decides he has had enough of this shut down version of his nephew. Besides, Stiles had said that it was over - seemed like a good place to interrupt. Phil reaches up with one hand and runs it through his nephew’s hair. “Stiles, look at me.” He orders gently. Stiles blinks and some expression starts returning to his face. “Stiles.” Phil says again.

This time the teen reacts more, turning to look up at Phil with a heartbreakingly timid expression. “Uncle Phil?” Stiles whispers.

Phil searches Stiles face for a long moment, trying to understand the near fearful tone in the question. He nearly chokes when realizes that Stiles is waiting for Phil to condemn him for what happened. Phil switches the hand combing through Stiles’s head so it is cupping his head instead, keeping Stiles from trying to turn away. Terror and anticipated pain fill Stiles’s eyes but bleeds into confusion when Phil speaks. “None of what happened - none of it - was your fault. If your ‘friends’ blamed you for any of it than they are the ones at fault. You did everything you could to protect everyone around you. Stiles, you were willing to die -painfully- to save the others. Grieve for you friends but don’t shoulder the blame for their deaths.”

Tears well in Stiles’s eyes, and Phil releases his hold. Stiles immediately uses his freedom to burrow into Phil. His tears this time are nearly silent, but Phil can feel him relaxing into Phil as he releases the pent up emotion. Phil glances over at movement in his peripheral and sees Bucky wearing a small, sad smile as he shifts to accommodate the foot Stiles is trying to wedge under the soldier’s leg. Switching his gaze to Clint, Phil sees his partner running his thumb gently over the back of Stiles’s hand as the teen starts to loosen the white knuckled grip he has on the archer. 

No one interrupts, letting Stiles release all the pain and guilt. Phil knows better than anyone that Stiles is probably going to need therapy to fully accept his past and lay down the burden he is carrying, but hopes simply telling the story and having this new family accept him for all of it is cathartic for the young - too young - man. He waits until Stiles’s is calm and quiet in his hold before speaking again.

“I think it’s time for another break. What do you say, Stiles?”

Stiles pulls away slightly, sniffling. “Yeah, Uncle Phil. A break might be nice.” He croaks hoarsely. “Um,” Stiles adds hesitantly, “could we maybe stay here though?”

Phil smiles fondly. “Can we move off the floor?”

Stiles pulls back further and blinks. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Phil assures him. “Really, I don’t mind. Whatever you need Stiles.”

“Is there any hot chocolate?” Stiles asks quietly.

“I’ll make you some.” Steve offers, using Bucky’s shoulder to lever himself off the couch. 

“I could use a snack.” Clint adds. He tugs gently on the hand Stiles is still clinging to, trying to draw the teen’s attention to that fact. Stiles looks down, surprised and blushes faintly as he peels his fingers open. Clint smiles at him and ruffles his hair fondly as he stands and heads into the kitchen.

Sam groans and stands to follow. “I think we could all use a snack actually. It’s been awhile since brunch.” Pepper, Tony and Natasha follow in the others’ wake. Stiles takes advantage and crawls up onto the now vacant couch, pulling Phil and Bucky up with him. Phil can’t help but smile as his nephew pushes and prodes him and Bucky into the position he wants before curling up between the two. He isn’t surprised when Stiles drifts off not long after - the emotional toll of the day is catching up to all of them, but it has been far worse for Stiles. 

Bucky huffs a laugh as he carefully readjusts Stiles so he is laying across their laps. Phil helps him and then accepts the blanket Bruce brings to him, gently draping it over Stiles’s. Bruce crouches near where Bucky is smoothing Stiles’s messy hair back off his forehead. Bruce studies the teen silently for a moment. “Phil,” He says eventually, speaking quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping man. “Do you think Stiles would agree to let me look him over later? Not today, but maybe in the next few days? I have seen the scars so I would hope he doesn’t feel the need to hide from me.”

“We can ask.” Phil agrees easily. “Why?”

“He has been through a lot. Between everything that has happened to him physically - all the attacks and everything and then walking here - and mentally, I am astonished he seems to be in as good condition as he is. I want to just check him over, see what we can do to help him more.”

“Thank you, Bruce.” Phil says. “Actually thank all of you.” He adds, raising his voice to be heard in the kitchen but keeping it soft enough to hopefully avoid rousing Stiles. “Thank you for being here for him and for me.”

“Of course, Phil.” Tony says seriously from where he is leaning against the island. “Stiles is special. We would have done it simply for your sake, but the kid has grown on all of us. We all want to help, however we can.” The others nods in agreement and Phil nods back in acceptance and gratitude. 

Phil relaxes back into the couch, listening to his family quietly chat and assemble simple snacks and forcing his mind away from thoughts of his nephew’s hardships. His moment of peace is interrupted by Thor, sounding more hesitant than Phil can ever remember him being.

“Son of Coul?”

Phil sighs and turns to the demigod, who is leaning forward in his chair. “What is it Thor?” 

“I know my poorly considered actions of the morning have strained the bonds of our friendship, something that distresses me deeply. I will do everything in my power to regain your faith, but beg you now to lean on our shared history and heed my words.” Thor says seriously.

Phil straightens as much as he can without disturbing Stiles, alarmed. “What is the matter?”

Thor’s stormy gaze settles on Stiles, face softening. “We have yet to hear all of the young warrior’s story, and this warning may be unneeded but it concerns me deeply that Stiles has not spoken of training for his magic. He is powerful, Son of Coul. Stiles does not access his magic, I can tell that, and in a Spark, especially one of his potential, this is most dangerous. He needs to learn control.” Thor’s face hardens. “Training could also give him the means to defend himself against the foes that seem to follow him. More than just physical training could.”

“Can you train him?” Phil asks. The noises from the others have stopped, he realizes. He glances around to find them all focused on his quiet conversation with Thor. 

Thor shakes his head regretfully. “Perhaps the most basic level.” He answers. “Magic was never my strength.”

“Than what do you suggest?” Phil asks, certain the man would not have spoken up if he did not have some idea.

Thor hesitates. “Forgive me, I know you do not approve of my speaking of him, but Loki would be my first suggestion.”

Phil tamps down the immediate rejection that wells in his chest. There is a strangled sound from the kitchen. “You want us to trust that monster with Stiles?” Clint all but snarls. 

“Clint,” Phil chastises gently. It is not that he disagrees, per say, but Loki is still Thor’s brother, whatever he has done. “Why Loki? You had to expect that we would not be pleased. Why suggest him given that?”

“Loki’s grasp on magic exceeds any other. My mother knows much, but her talents lay more in healing. While I believe Stiles could study under her for that if he so desires, Loki would have the ability to teach him defensive and offensive magic. Something I believe Stiles would appreciate and take to well, given the tales he has shared his day. Please consider the possibility.” Thor pleads. “I will also search for another mentor that may be suitable.” He concedes. 

Phil studies Thor. “I’ll consider it.” A shattering of glass from the kitchen proceeds Clint stalking silently stalking toward the elevator. It also startles Stiles awake. He sits up with a gasp and searches his surroundings quickly, scanning for danger. 

“Clint?” Stiles calls, voice hesitant and pleading. Clint freezes steps from the elevator. “Where are you going?”

Phil watches as Clint flexes his fingers and rolls his neck before the tension bleeds from his shoulders and he turns around. “Nowhere, kid. It’s alright.”

Stiles twists his hands in the blanket in his lap, shoulders curling in. “You don’t have to stay.” He says quietly, valiantly trying to keep his voice free of emotion. 

Clint sighs and shakes his head, the gesture fond. He crosses to crouch in front of Stiles. “I’ll stay as long as you want.” Clint gently untangles the blanket from Stiles’s fingers. “I just got a little angry. I’m fine now.” He is avoiding looking at Phil, and Phil winces, knowing there was going to be a reckoning later. 

The relief is evident on Stiles’s face when he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Come on,” Clint replies, tugging Stiles to his feet. “I think Steve promised you some hot chocolate didn’t he?” Stiles nods, looking to the kitchen hopefully.

“It will be just a second.” Steve smiles, glancing up from the stove where he is slowly stirring a pot. Phil watches Clint guide Stiles to the table. He turns to Thor and nods, indicating they will continue the discussion later. Thor inclines his head in silent acknowledgement. Phil sighs and rubs a hand over his face, hoping this day doesn’t have too many surprises left in store for him.


	16. And Left A Little Empty Handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go my lovelies :) Another longer chapter for you. Enjoy!!

Phil stands with a groan and makes his way into the kitchen. Steve is pouring the hot chocolate into mugs for everyone. He smiles when Phil grabs a few mugs to help him pass them around. Stiles accepts his happily and hums in pleasure as he sips the rich liquid. Clint takes the mug from Phil but is still refusing to make eye contact. Phil tries not to let it get to him - Clint has every right to be upset, and Phil can merely pray that the anger doesn’t fester before they have a chance to talk. 

Everybody settles in the kitchen and around the table which is loaded with the excessive amount of snack Sam had put together. Conversation is easy and familiar, and Phil is pleased to see Stiles merely enjoying their company. The break is needed by all of them and does the team a world of good. Phil can easily see the tension leaking from the group. Even Clint relaxes a bit in the interim, defrosting enough to trail a hand across Phil’s shoulders as he leans past to get some of the diced fruit. That allows Phil to release some of his own tension. He knows that no one in the group is truly relaxed - they still need to process everything they have heard and, knowing this group figure out how they can help, before they will lose that edge they are carrying. 

Most of the food has been picked over and depleted when Stiles clears his throat. “Um, would it be ok if I kept talking now? We are through a lot of the story and I really, really just want to be done.”

“Of course,” Bruce answers. “I for one would rather stay over here - I have had enough of the couch for the moment.” 

Echos of agreement sound from the others and Stiles nods easily. “Sounds good to me. This next part isn’t so bad… I may even make it through with no emotional breakdowns.” He adds ruefully. 

“I am a little nervous to know what you consider ‘not so bad’.” Steve says frankly. 

“Assassins, a plethora of new supernaturals and some old enemies back for revenge?” Stiles says with a grin.

Steve blinks at Stiles owlishly. “I shouldn’t have asked.” 

Stiles laughs. “I guess I should start with what happened to everyone after… after. Chris and Isaac left the country - moved to France. I guess neither could handle being in Beacon Hills anymore, which I can understand. Ethan left too, but I don’t know where he went. Danny had broken up with him - dude figured out he was a werewolf, unsurprisingly -”

“Unsurprisingly?” Bucky interrupts. “Why unsurprisingly? I would think werewolf is a bit of a jump.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at him. “You have heard everything that had been going down in Beacon Hills. None - seriously none - of the werewolves are subtle and Danny is a smart guy. I’m only surprised it took so long, honestly. Malia was out of Eichen House and joined school. Lydia and Scott were trying, but they could barely stand to look at me right after. I… well I was just trying to move on, I guess. Malia and I … we were … I don’t think you can really call it dating, but we were together I guess.”

Something in the way he says that pings Phil’s alarm. Looking around, he can see the same concern on several of the others. It is Clint that asks.

“Hey,” Clint taps Stiles’s hand to get his attention. “I’m probably the wrong choice for this because I have no tact, so I’m just going to come out and say it. Did you want to be in a relationship with Malia?”

Stiles flushes dark red and drops his gaze. “She was beautiful and she actually chose me and she needed help and after what happened at Eichen…”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Clint returns quietly. And really, the fact that Stiles didn’t really did answer the question.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Stiles pleads. 

“Then we won’t.” Clint backs down immediately. “We meant it when we said as much or as little as you want to tell us.”

Stiles’s shoulders, which had crept up around his ears, slump and he nods. He leans over to press his forehead to Clint’s shoulder and Clint rubs the back of his neck reassuringly. After a moment Stiles sits up and drains the last of his hot chocolate before continuing.

“Things had sort of leveled out, but then we realized that no one had heard from Derek in weeks. Scott went to the loft and he found a bunch of shell casings with the mark of the Calaveras - a hunting family from Mexico. Lydia tried to listen to the casings to see if they had killed Derek but she couldn’t tell from them. She was confused, so we decided to go looking. We went down to Mexico -”

“Hang on.” Phil interrupts, incredulously. “Your dad let you go down to Mexico to confront a hunting family?”

Stiles winces. “We may have told our parents that we were going camping. Instead we drove down to Mexico. Lydia and I went to the club the Calaveras ran and got taken to the matriarch, Araya. We offered 50 grand in exchange for Derek.”

“Where did you get that kind of money?” Tony asks in surprise.

“The money I had used to frame Derek and Chris for the yakuza murder.” Stiles answers. “Scott, Kira and Malia were in the club as backup, but the Calaveras were better than we anticipated. They captured us all and we realized they didn’t have Derek. Araya took Scott, Kira and Lydia. They put Lydia and Scott in electric chairs. Made Kira torture Scott to save Lydia. It was some kind of sick test. Araya knew who had Derek, but she wanted Scott to figure it out and see if he would take the pain to spare his friend.”

“So it was someone you knew? If she thought he could figure out who took him?” Pepper asks.

Stiles laughs humorlessly. “Oh it was someone we knew alright. There are multiple ways to get turned into a werewolf. The bite of an alpha, drinking water from the print of a werewolf, and, if the claws go deep enough, by scratch of an alpha. We thought the last one was a myth. But apparently not so much.”

“But who had gotten scratched?” Bruce asks.

“Think less scratched, more throat clawed out.” Stiles says.

“Kate Argent?” Bucky swears.

Stiles nods. “I guess the Calaveras had taken her body because she had been healing, changing. Kate slaughtered a bunch of them escaping. Araya had sent men after Kate and Derek, but none of them came back. She sent us that way with a guide. Braeden, the mercenary that had saved Isaac from the alphas.”

“She had already lost how many men to that woman and yet she sent you after?” Steve asks, indignant. 

Stiles grins at him. “Steve, your idealistic side is showing.” He teases gently before sobering. “The Calaveras are die-hard hunters. They hate anything they deem unnatural… and our entire group fit that category. If we got Kate and Derek, great. They could take them from us. If we died? One less thing they had to worry about. Honestly we would have gone regardless so Braeden was a godsend. Part way there we hit something and the jeep broke down. Scott and Braeden went ahead while I tried to fix it. Something attacked us while we were on the road, but we didn’t get a good look at it. Malia just knew it was big and fast. We got the jeep working and got to the church in time to meet Braeden, Scott and Derek.”

“They found him?” Phil asks.

“Sort of. They found 16 year old Derek. Kate deaged him somehow. We took him to Deaton but he was as clueless as we were. Since Derek was passed out we left him with Deaton and went home. Lydia stayed just in case. When Derek woke up the next morning he didn’t remember them at all. He attacked Deaton and took off. We figured he would try going home and sure enough Derek got arrested trespassing at the site of the Hale house.” 

Stiles snorts and grins. “My dad asked if we were time traveling. That apparently would have been the breaking point. He said he could handle everything else but if time travel was real he was out. Dad let us talk to Derek though and we convinced him to go with me. I took him back to Scott’s house while Scott went to talk to Peter. Peter figured out that Kate had taken Derek back to the age where he still trusted her… because apparently Kate had seduced Derek back when he was a teenager in order to get information on the Hales. I went to check on Derek and got there just in time to see Kate leaving with him. Peter, Scott, Malia and Lydia figured out that Kate was having trouble controlling the shift.”

“What does that have to do with making Derek a teenager again?” Steve asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

“When Kate knew Derek he was still having trouble controlling the shift on the full moon. Back then Peter had been trying to teach Derek control using a triskelion medallion and a mantra. Derek, and therefore Kate, was under the impression that the medallion was a family heirloom and had some kind of power. Turns out that it is really just a physical object to focus on. Peter gave up on it with Derek not long after and taught him to use his anger to control the shift instead. But Kate thought the medallion could help her. It was kept in the Hale family vault, which is under the high school because of fucking course it is. You have to be a Hale to get inside though, so she needed Derek to let her in. Peter, Malia and Scott went to the high school to try to stop her and ended up running into the two things that had attacked us in Mexico. Turns out they were berserkers.” 

Thor’s head snaps up to look at Stiles. “Not true berserkers, surely?”

“Uh, very tall, very big, wearing animal skulls and hides and bones, nearly impossible to kill, freakishly strong?” Stiles lists warily.

Thor swears. “And they were following the woman’s command? Your friends are lucky to have escaped unharmed.”

Stiles shrugs. “We ended up running into them a lot… and they kicked our asses everytime. Scott, Kira, Malia and Derek fought the two of them and barely lasted long enough to call them off. Which she did after Peter confronted her in the vault, dashed her hopes of an easy fix and then threatened her. They were going to fight but then someone else through smoke and flash grenades down into the vault. Blinded them both and then stole 117 million dollars worth of bearer bonds right out from under Peter’s nose. He was lamenting that and being super dramatic when Lydia and I found him in the vault. Derek ended up turning back to his normal sourwolf state when he was fighting the berserkers - don’t ask, we got no fucking clue either - but his eyes were gold instead of blue.”

“How did they change color? I understand going from gold to blue and either to red and back but blue to gold seems impossible.” Tony asks.

Stiles nods. “Yeah we didn’t know either. Honestly everything that happened to Derek during that time is still a complete mystery to me, but I’ll get to that. Derek and Peter ended up hiring Braeden to find Kate. Then there was this murder. Well, a few actually. An axe murderer killed three of the four members of the family and the fourth - a kid around our age - managed to get to the hospital. Dad and Melissa didn’t want us to get involved so we went to lacrosse tryouts. There was this new kid, Liam, he was a freshman and he was like impossibly good. Scott and I ended up hurting him accidentally and had to take him to the hospital. But Kira made the team so it wasn’t a total bust. Scott stayed at the hospital to check on Liam and I went to help Malia study. She was having trouble in math and said she couldn’t understand Lydia’s notes. I checked them out and what Lydia had given Malia wasn’t math notes - it was code. Meanwhile, Lydia and one of my dad’s deputies, Parrish, had found a ton of bodies in a hidden game locker in the basement of the house of the family that had been murdered. Lydia called Scott and told him he needed to find the survivor. It’s a good thing Scott was at the hospital already because by the time he got to the kid’s room the guy had killed a deputy and was attacking Melissa. Scott fought him off and the guy ran. Scott chased him and found him on the roof with Liam as a hostage. The guy was a wendigo, I guess. The whole family was. Liam tried to get free and fell off the roof. Scott caught him but the wendigo was holding Scott’s arms and Liam was going to fall… so Scott bit his arm in order to hold him up. The axe murderer had super convenient timing and showed up and killed the wendigo. Scott saw him and the dude had no mouth.”

“What was he?” Pepper asks, with ill concealed horror.

“No idea. Scott called me freaking out, so I went to his house. The idiot had kidnapped Liam and had him duct taped up and in his tub. We tried to explain but then he ran and we lost him. We tracked him down at school the next day but Scott failed epically at trying to give the speech a second time and it was the night of the full moon. We had been using Lydia’s lake house for Malia on full moons, so we just needed to get Liam out there as well. We had Kira ask him to a party and then she drove him out there. He was… not pleased. Liam started to freak out and the increase in his heart rate triggered the shift. He had invited his friend Mason to the party and Mason spread the word and everyone started to show up. We left Lydia to deal with the party, I took Malia to the basement and Kira and Scott took Liam to the boathouse.”

“Several things happened simultaneously. Malia and I figured out how to keep her under control without the chains, which was good cause she ripped right through one of the cuffs. Scott and Kira lost Liam. Chris magically appeared and helped Scott catch him and talk him down. Lydia heard voices whispering through the static of a record player. They told her the key to decipher part of the code she had given to Malia. It turns out the code was a dead pool containing all the supernaturals in Beacon Hills.”

“Jesus fuck.” Tony swears. “How do you all keep finding new levels of shitty?”

Stiles quirks a half smile in the engineer’s direction. “Got me. What we found out later was that Peter had been attacked by the mouthless guy as well, but fought him off. Derek took the keypad Peter had taken off the guy to my dad and Parrish overheard and told them that both the tomahawk and the keyboard were military. He helped Dad and Derek get into the keyboard and they figured out that the dude was an assassin. They traced the ip back to the high school and Dad and Derek went to check it out. The dude nearly got them with a trip wire attached to a claymore, but Dad figured it out. They guy attacked them and just after they had subdued him, Peter showed up and ripped the dude’s throat out.”

“He still went with that after the failure of Kate?” Clint snarks.

Stiles grins. “Well, he always had a flair for the dramatic and that’s a pretty dramatic way to take someone out. Not to mention Peter is a psychopath and it appealed to his bloodlust.”

“... touché.” Clint replied with a matching grin, though Phil could see the underlying concern for Stiles being so blasé about it.

“There were two more murders after the family of wendigos and the attempts on Peter and Derek. Scott and I took the dead pool to Dad. We explained everything - that it was a hit list of supernatural creatures, that the numbers next to the names were the payment for each kill, and that the keyword Lydia had found decoded a third of the list. The keyword was Allison.” Stiles peters off for a moment.

“What kind of payments are you talking about?” Clint interjects in an attempt to draw Stiles back out of his head. “Are we talking small time assassins or Natasha, Bucky and I levels?” 

Stiles blinks at Clint. “I honestly have no idea how to answer that question. Lydia was worth 20 million, Scott 25, Derek 15…. Does that help?” 

Bucky whistles. “Who had that kind of cash to fund this?”

“Whoever robbed the Hales.” Stiles says simply. “The mastermind was called the Benefactor. They were using the 117 million to attempt to rid Beacon Hills of supernaturals.”

“Well… that does have a sort of dramatic irony.” Pepper says faintly. Stiles smiles at her.

“We knew there was at least one more assassin out there - one with a thermo-cut wire. One of the victims was also stabbed with a unique shaped blade. I realized later that it was in the shape of a lacrosse stick, so we thought it was someone on the team. We were scheduled to play a scrimmage against Liam’s old school that night. That’s actually how we learned that he had gotten kicked out of his old school and that he had something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder.”

“Let me get this straight.” Tony interjects, voice hovering between vastly amused and downright horrified. “McCall’s first turn as an alpha was a kid with severe anger management issues?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah Liam would get real angry, real fast. He was ridiculously strong as a werewolf because of it… as long as he didn’t lose control. It was a delicate balance to walk. But he had enough control that we agreed to let him play the game. We realized that the assassin was this freshman named Garrett. We thought he might have been after Liam since he wasn’t going after Scott or Kira, but then Meredith helped Lydia find the next keyword and we learned that Liam’s rival from his old school - a guy named Brett - was on the list. He had been taken off the field after he and Liam collided pretty hard, and Scott went after him. Nearly got his head taken off by Garrett’s girlfriend Violet. We called my dad, and Scott’s dad showed up too.”

“Rafe stuck around that long?” Phil asks, surprised.

Stiles snorts. “Yeah he was trying this whole ‘get to know your son’ shtick. Mr. McCall recognized Violet though… I guess she and Garrett were on the FBI’s list. The called them ‘the orphans’ or something.” 

“I’ve heard of them.” Phil comments. “They were rather notorious given their age. The dead pool had spread pretty far.”

Stiles scoffs. “Good ol’ Beacon Hills. Anyway Mr. McCall was taking custody of Violet and was transferring her to a federal facility. Garrett… wasn’t pleased about that. He kidnapped Liam and used him to blackmail Scott into helping him break Violet out. The plan was to intercept them in transport. Which sucked big time as it was my dad and Scott’s dad accompanying her. Before Scott and Garrett could catch up to them, though, the berserkers attacked and took Violet. The berserkers killed Garrett and stabbed Scott. He used the knife to track them by scent and Chris tagged along to help. They fought with Kate and the berserkers but Violet was already dead. Scott managed to find Liam because Liam howled for him eventually.”

“Well I guess that is two less assassins you had to worry about, right?” Clint asks optimistically. 

Stiles tilts his head in agreement. “While Scott was dealing with that, Lydia and I went to the police station. There was a name on the second part of the dead pool that had surprised us - Parrish. We showed him that he was on the list and then asked for his help getting in to talk to Meredith again. She refused to tell us the third key, said the benefactor didn’t want her to help us. We… we pushed her too far. She kinda had a nervous breakdown on us.” Stiles admits quietly.

“It sounds like she was already pretty close to the edge.” Sam argues quietly. 

“Still doesn’t make it right.” Stiles shakes his head. “I realized we had been going about things in the wrong way. The first two keys were people who were dead. Lydia and I had tried everyone else we knew who was dead, but then I had the thought of what if it wasn’t someone who was already dead, but one who would be. Lydia should have been able to predict that. She did… and the name was Derek.” 

“Yikes.” Steve breathed. Stiles nods.

“Whatever Kate had done to Derek - it was still happening. Derek’s eyes weren’t the only thing that changed. He had been losing his other senses as well. Everything that made him a werewolf was being leached away. His name unlocked the rest of the list. Meredith was on it. Lydia called Parrish to warn him, but it was too late. He told us they had found Meredith an hour before - she had hung herself in her cell.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” Sam says firmly. 

Stiles blinks up at him. “I know.” That one actually sounds like the truth. At least there was one death Stiles wasn’t carrying on his conscience. “I am not proud of this next part.” Stiles admits quietly. “Scott called me and told me something he had been keeping secret. He had searched Garrett’s locker after Violet got arrested. In it was a bag. A bag with $500,000 in it.” Stiles closes his eyes. “You have to understand.” He pleads. “Melissa was working double shifts and still couldn’t afford the mortgage payments. Their power got turned off because she was behind on the payments. My dad was getting all kinds of notices from the hospital and Eichen House about the bills from when I was possessed.”

“You took the money.” Bucky says quietly,voice full of understanding as he glances at Steve. Stiles nods, head ducked. Tony shifts awkwardly in his chair. Phil takes a second to send him a reassuring glance. Tony never does well dealing with other people’s financial hardships. He had been privileged enough to never have worried about money, although his childhood had come with it’s own set of hardships. Given that one of the main ways Tony showed affection was by spending lavious amounts of money on people, Phil wouldn’t be surprised if all the Stilinski’s unpaid bills were covered by this time tomorrow. For Stiles sake, as it certainly wouldn’t be for Noah’s. Phil didn’t hold out hope for the McCall’s getting the same treatment, unless Scott pulled off a miracle turnaround before the end of Stiles’s story. Something Phil highly doubted would happen.

Phil turns his attention back to his nephew. “You guys were too young to be worrying about those things.” He says quietly. “But you have always been too inquisitive and too quick to take on responsibility for others. You dad should have called me if he needed help. It should never have crossed your radar.”

“I think he was trying to pretend it wasn’t real.” Stiles said helplessly. A sudden flash of his conversation with Noah hits Phil and he thinks Stiles is probably right on the money, so to speak. “I brought it up once and he got really mad. Anyway, Scott and I counted the money out and in the bag we found a tape. It was a list of instructions on how to get paid for the hits.”

“What did you do with it?” Bruce asks.

Stiles shrugs. “At first, nothing. We had the PSATs in the morning and despite all the supernatural weirdness we were actually trying to plan for a future.” Stiles scoffs bitterly and shakes his head before continuing. “The weirdness followed us though. The school ended up being quarantined because of a virus… looked like smallpox. Scott, Malia, Kira, Kira’s dad, Lydia’s mom and I were all in the school. Turns out the virus was targeted for werewolves. Derek and Malia had found an entire pack dead of it in the woods. The virus was making Malia and Scott lose control of their shift and it was screwing with Kira’s head. I just felt … well like I had smallpox I guess.”

Bruce shudders and asks, horrified, “It wasn’t really smallpox though right?”

“No,” Stiles assures him. “But we needed to get the three supernaturals away from everyone else, so we put them in the Hale vault. I had to go back out because they were looking for us and someone had to hold them off. I was trying to figure out how the sickness was spreading, and then I realized it was the ink they had used to fingerprint us at the start of the test. The assassin was the test proctor. He cornered me. Wanted to know where Scott and the others were - he needed visual confirmation for the benefactor in order to get paid. I refused to tell him. He was going to kill me.” The last is said in a detached tone that had Phil’s hackles rising. “Had the gun against my head. Did the whole countdown. And then, right before he pulled the trigger… Mr McCall shot him in the head.”

“What?” Phil asks, startled. Stiles nods absently.

“The virus was designed to only kill werewolves - humans got better. Derek, Melissa, Deaton and Satomi - the alpha of the pack that had been murdered in the woods - figured out a cure. Melissa called Mr. McCall and sent him in with a message - the cure was a form of reishi mushroom and there was a jar in the vault. I tried to get to them, yelled, screamed the answer at them but I couldn’t get through the door. I couldn’t hear anything … I was so sure I was too late. That the answer, the cure, was so close and my friends were going to die feet from it. But I guess they heard me. It worked - fixed them right up. But I had left my jacket with Malia… my jacket with the deadpool in the pocket.”

“Why was that a problem? Did she not know she was on the list?” Clint asks, confused.

“Oh no, she knew.” Stiles laughs bitterly. “But she wasn’t on there as Malia Tate. She was listed as Malia Hale.”

“You hadn’t told her about Peter.” Phil remarks quietly.

Stiles shakes his head. “I couldn’t. Peter is a psychopath but he is brilliant. He twists his way into your head, manipulates you. If he got Malia… we would have lost her. I couldn’t let him use her.”

“I’m not sure that was your choice to make.” Sam says cautiously.

“It wasn’t.” Stiles agrees, curling into himself. “But Malia was so naive about some things and Peter scared me and I wanted to protect her. I made the call. Malia was so angry when she found out though. She left and wouldn’t talk to me.”

Stiles sighs. “But things with the benefactor were getting out of hand. We needed to figure out who it was. So we came up with a plan.”

“Why does that sound super ominous?” Clint asks.

“Probably because you have heard enough of our plans to know they are all incredibly dangerous and idiotic?” Stiles snarks, startling grins out of several of the team. “The tape we found in Garrett’s bag said the benefactor needed visual confirmation. So… what happened if the assassin couldn’t get a picture?”

“They don’t get paid.” Steve provides the obvious answer.

“Not that.” Natasha says slowly, watching Stiles with interest. “The benefactor would still need confirmation to know if the hit was completed. He would have to come himself.”

“You were going to trap him?” Bucky asks, grinning as he catches on.

Stiles quirks his head. “That was the plan. Kira’s mom knew of a way for Kira to essentially kill Scott. She would use her power to slow his heart rate so drastically it would fool the doctors into believing him dead.”

“Please.” Pepper interrupts. “Please tell me you warned Melissa what you were doing.”

Stiles shoots upright in his chair. “Of course we did!” He exclaims, indigent. “She was like a second mom to me! I wouldn’t - I would never -”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky cuts in, laying a soothing hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “It’s alright Stiles.”

Stiles huffs and sits back in his chair. He scowls at the table in front of him. “I’m not a monster.” He mutters defiantly. Phil can hear the vulnerable edge to it, though, the hurt lurking under the facade. Pepper can too if the horrified look on her face is any indication.

“Oh, honey, that is not what I meant at all. I don’t think you are monster. I would never expect you to deliberately hurt someone like that… but sometimes things get overlooked in plans. And this one had some pretty major concerns that might have gotten your attention distracted.” Stiles is still attempting to burn a hole in the table with his eyes, and Pepper winces. She gets up and rounds the table to crouch next to him. “Stiles. Look at me.” Conflicted brown eyes flicker over to meet Pepper’s. “Honey I swear to you that I don’t think whatever is going through your head right now. I am so sorry.” 

Stiles searches her face for a moment before he nods, face crumpling in relief. Phil hears Pepper swear under her breath as she gather the teen to her, letting Stiles bury his head in her neck. Phil runs a hand soothingly down Stiles’s back and Sam presses a firm hand to Pepper’s back. Stiles sits up after a moment. 

“So much for getting through with no breakdowns.” He mutters, swiping at his face. 

“You can blame this one on me.” Pepper smiles sadly as she stands back up.

“Not to be a dick or anything, but I gotta ask - did you tell Rafe what you were doing?” Clint asks, a smirk barely concealed on his lips.

Stiles blushes furiously. “Um, well, no, but Melissa told us not to. She didn’t want him involved with the supernatural shit - good god would that have complicated our lives - and she would be able to intercept any attempts to notify him. Scott would only be in that state for 45 minutes, so she wouldn’t have to cover long. It seemed easier that way.”

“Plus the dude is an asshole who wouldn’t have known one way or another before he showed up out of the blue.” Clint comments, smirk fully unveiled now. Stiles rolls his eyes, but a hint of a grin lurks in his expression.

“Can I ask why 45 minutes?” Bruce interjects, shaking his head in bemusement.

“Um, cause unless Kira brought him back before that Scott would be dead for real?” Stiles winces.

“Jesus Christ.” Clint mutters. “No wonder this sounded ominous.”

“We had Chris play the part of the assassin. He messaged the benefactor and told him that he couldn’t get confirmation and that the police were coming in 40 minutes to collect the body. We hacked into the hospital’s security cameras so that we could watch for the benefactor. But one of the cameras on the roof went out. Kira and Liam went to go check it out. While they were gone all the power went out. Kate and the berserkers had decided to come play. One of the berserkers attacked Kira and Liam on the roof. Nearly killed both of them. The other rampaged through the hospital. That one nearly killed Kira’s mom. Kate came after Chris and I. She wanted Scott’s body, but she wasn’t the benefactor. When we told her we had a plan she backed off.”

“So who was it? Did the benefactor show?” Steve asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “Nope. No one showed. But Scott said that actually helped us. The benefactor needed confirmation that the kill was made, but didn’t need to show up in person.”

“A banshee?” Bruce asks, startled. 

Stiles nods. “That’s what we decided.”

“Did you have any idea of another banshee in town?” Pepper asks.

Stiles shakes his head, pauses, nods and then shrugs. “We had… a theory. Lydia had gone back to the lakehouse and her mom had shown up. Turns out Lydia’s grandmother had asked for Lydia to be the one to spread her ashes when she turned 18. Mrs. Martin figured she was close enough, but when Lydia looked at the ashes they weren’t her grandmother’s remains - it was mountain ash. The whole boathouse was. They started going through the stuff her grandmother had left and came across a note that was written in the same code as the dead pool. Lydia found out that her grandmother was a banshee too - she had predicted the death of the woman she was in love with but didn’t say anything because it seemed so crazy. The woman died and Lydia’s grandmother spent the rest of her life trying to figure out what had happened. She had actually found Meredith… and whatever she did to her nearly killed her. Meredith was hospitalized for over a year and only ever recovered to the point we had known her.”

“So you thought Lydia’s grandma… what? Faked her death?” Clint asks.

“Essentially?” Stiles mouth twists in embarrassment. “I mean it’s not like people didn’t come back from the dead all the fucking time now.” Clint tilts his head in agreement. “Lydia and I went to the station to tell my dad. While we were there… Parrish showed up. He was naked, singed all over and covered in ash. He just went straight over to one of the other deputies, Haigh, and just started beating the dude. My dad got shot in the shoulder during by a stray bullet from Haigh’s gun.”

Stiles sighs. “That’s actually when Dad yelled at me about the money thing. He needed surgery for his shoulder and he could tell I was worried.” Phil watches his nephew twist his fingers together for a long moment before deciding to direct his thoughts a different way.

“Why did Parrish attack Haigh… he sounded like a good guy?”

Stiles startles out of his thoughts. “What? Oh, yeah, no Parrish is a great guy. Haigh got ahold of the dead pool. Knocked Parrish out, handcuffed him to the steering wheel of his cruiser, drenched both the cruiser and Parrish in gas and lit him on fire.”

“Fuck.” Clint swears, shocked. “And Parrish walked away from that?”

“Like it never even happened.” Stiles confirms. “He was more shocked than we were honestly. Had to do the whole supernatural song and dance for him, but not even Derek knew what he could be. That’s around when we learned just how bad things had gotten for Derek. He was human, more or less, by this point. Braeden was teaching him how to defend himself as a human.” Stiles snorts. “Derek was horrified.”

Stiles straightens and cracks his back before slumping back in his chair. “Lydia and I were working on figuring out the key word for the not her grandmother had left her. We managed and it turned out to be another list of names. No values this time, and the only one we recognized was Lydia’s grandmother. But then something weird happened.”

“I am afraid of what you would consider weird.” Sam admits. Stiles shoots him a grin.

“Liam’s printer, coach’s printer and my printer -maybe more, those are the ones we know for sure - started printing copies of the deadpool. The only way to stop them was to unplug them. The deadpool had changed though. Derek’s name was gone and Liam was now worth a lot more. Scott and Liam worked on that while Lydia and I took the new list to Parrish. Turns out the list was a list of dead people. All of them had died at Eichen House - suicide actually. Lydia and I went over to check it out… figured we could bribe that dickwad Brunski to let us in. Cost us $500, but he agreed. But when we were in his office he went to change his music and we noticed something. Not like it did us any good.” He mutters bitterly.

“What did you notice?” Phil asks quietly.

“Brunski was listening to a mix tape… one that looked identical to the one we found in Garrett’s bag.”

“Brunski? Brunski was the benefactor?” Clint snaps in disbelief, but Stiles shakes his head.

“Not exactly. He figured we were on to him. He tazed us, tied us to a pole in the records room. Fucker made us listen to the tape he had made of killing Lydia’s grandmother. I tried to distract her, get her to block it out, but Brunski was hurting me to shut me up and Lydia freaked out. Brunski was going to kill us and stage it to look like we broke in and OD’ed. But Parrish somehow figured out Brunski was involved and came after us. He shot Brunski when he tried to drug Lydia. We thought that was it - Brunski was the benefactor and he had been making Meredith help him but then… Meredith showed up. She had been the one controlling Brunski. They arrested Meredith and I had to go to the hospital.”

“Jesus he hurt you that bad?” Clint breathes.

Stiles waves a hand dismissively. “Concussion from getting punched really hard in the face. But I guess me nearly dying was enough to get Malia to forgive me. She came by the hospital and we got back together.”

The copper taste of blood fills Phil’s mouth as he bites his tongue hard to keep from saying anything about that. Stiles had made his opinion on that topic clear. He hears a creak and glances over to see Bucky’s metal hand pressing dents in the table. Steve reaches over to pry his best friend’s fingers loose. Stiles continues, oblivious.

“Meredith was refusing to talk to anyone. My dad finally let Lydia try and she got Meredith to admit she would talk to one person. Peter Hale.”

“Uh,” Sam blinks, “ I gotta admit I didn’t see that one coming.”

Stiles huffs a laugh. “None of us did. And we saw this next part even less. Peter came in when we called but then he was too impatient to wait for Meredith to talk - he used his claws. Meredith was muttering the whole time and Lydia could understand her so she, my dad and Parrish heard everything. Remember how I said Lydia’s grandma had put Meredith in the hospital? Turns out this happened right after the fire. Meredith was in the same ward as Peter. She could hear him, his thoughts, his ravings in his head. The whole plan - the dead pool, the assassins, using the bearer bonds to fund it - it was all Peter’s plan. He wanted to raze the supernatural world of Beacon Hills to the ground and rebuild it stronger, tougher. And Peter didn’t remember any of it.”

“Holy shit.” Clint breathes. “Peter fucking Hale was the benefactor.”

Stiles nods. “While they were discovering that, other things were happening. Scott, Kira, Derek, Braeden and Chris had rounded up the supernaturals left on the list and holed up at Chris’s warehouse. They were going to make a last stand of sorts - wait for whoever was coming to find them and then fight back. I had stolen Brunski’s tape of Lydia’s grandmother and Malia and I were trying to find a clue. She heard the record player from the lakehouse playing in the background and we realized - what if Lydia’s grandmother had made one more prediction before her death. Not one death but everyone. What if she had predicted the dead pool? So we went to the lakehouse. We found a bunch of 1970’s computers hidden behind the wall of the study in the lakehouse that was running the deadpool. We managed to find the key and shut it down.”

“So that was it? The dead pool was done?” Steve asks.

“The dead pool was finished.” Stiles agrees. “But it wasn’t done. There was still another enemy in play.”

“Kate.” Phil says quietly. Stiles nods.

“Kate kidnapped Scott and Kira. She took them to Mexico, which we only knew because Deaton did his usual vague and mysterious thing and found out somehow. I wanted to go right away, but Dad wanted to try the legal channels first.”

“What were human cops going to do against Kate?” Tony asks, incredulous.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t going to wait around and find out either. Liam wanted to come with us but it was a full moon so we needed somewhere to put him. Braeden got us a prison transport van and we headed out - Braeden, Derek, Liam, Malia, Peter and I. Lydia was supposed to be meeting us but she hadn’t shown up and wasn’t answering her phone. Liam’s best friend Mason was at the school where Lydia had gone to get Kira’s jacket - for scent. Liam called him to go look for her.”

“Why didn’t you guys just go to the school?” Bruce asks, confused.

Stiles stops. “Dammit, I should have seen it then.” He breathes before looking up and continuing in a louder tone. “Peter was pushing us to leave. He said that Kate might try to do the same thing to Scott that she had done to Derek. Deage him. But this time to back before he was a werewolf in an attempt to get Scott’s alpha power. Whether that was true or not, it couldn’t have been good, so we left.”

Stiles leans forward to prop his elbows on the table and drop his head into his hands. “Everything went to shit as soon as we got there.” He says to the table, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Derek hadn’t even gotten the door all the way open before the berserker grabbed him and hauled him out. It stabbed him. Without his werewolf healing…. It was bad. He told us to go, to find Scott. I had to chose. If I left then I was sure I wouldn’t see Derek alive again. But Scott and Kira could be dying too. I - I left him with Braeden.” Stiles is silent a long moment.

“Dad called me right as we got into the church. He was fucking furious. But he asked how he could help. I sent him after Lydia and Mason since we hadn’t heard back from either of them. Just as I got off the phone one of the berserkers attacked. I went to find Scott and Kira while Malia and Liam held it off. I found Kira. She told me that the berserker was Scott. That’s what Kate had done to him - she had turned him into one of those things. She was going to have us kill him and we wouldn’t even have known. Kira and I managed to make it make to the others before they did. Liam was able to talk Scott down and Scott forced his way back to human… er uh werewolf… whatever.”

Stiles sits back. “Scott knew. He had figured it out somehow. Peter had been helping Kate all along. He wanted the alpha power back. Scott and Peter fought. Scott wouldn’t let any of us intervene. Scott won.” 

“Did he kill him?” Tony asks.

“No. Scott doesn’t kill.” Stiles’s voice is bitter again before he shakes it off. “We took him back to Beacon Hills. Turns out Eichen House has a supernatural floor. We threw Peter in there. While we were dealing with Scott and Peter, Chris, Parrish and the Calaveras had shown up to help with Kate. They didn’t manage to kill her, but she was pretty injured when she took off.” Stiles suddenly smiles. “Derek didn’t die. Well that’s a lie he did. But he didn’t. He … sort of died? It’s hard to explain but everything that had been happening? He was evolving. Some werewolves can do full shifts - become actual wolves. That’s what happened to Derek. He died, then woke up again with that power. He left with Braeden after everything was done. And Chris went with the Calaveras to find Kate.”

“So Peter was the evil mastermind behind… everything?” Steve asks.

Stiles snorts. “Yeah. Fucker.” He shakes his head. “And that was it for… months, actually.”

“Really? No immediate new threat?” Bucky asks, only half joking.

“Nope. And because this is a good place to stop, can I take a quick break? Maybe get some more tea?” Stiles asks Bruce hesitantly, swallowing thickly.

“Of course.” Bruce assures him, dropping a hand to the teen’s shoulder as he passes him on the way to the kitchen. 

“Um, I also have another request?” Stiles ventures cautiously.

“What is it, kid?” Tony asks.

“Can we go back over there?” His nephew asks, gesturing towards the living room. “I, uh, the next part is not so good. I - “ Stiles stumbles through, never actually able to ask for what he wants. The others can figure it out though. 

Bucky leans in and drapes an arm across Stiles’s shoulders. “Whatever you need.” 

Stiles nods and levers himself out of the chair. The others follow suit, stretching and cracking their backs, necks and assorted other body parts as they drift over to the living room. Bruce follows not long after with the tea which Stiles accepts gratefully. He collapses back onto the pillow on the floor and pulls the others back into the close fit box they had been in before. Then he curls around his tea and sips it slowly, gaze fixed on the floor between his feet. The others leave him alone, chatting quietly about nonsense as they wait for Stiles to be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh it's going to be so bad....


	17. Yeah, Everybody's Been Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... hi? *ducks*
> 
> I realize it has been a horrifically long time since my last update but I have no excuse other than that life can sometimes suckerpunch you.
> 
> I want to thank everyone for all the comments on this work and the encouragement they provided to keep me going. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy your holiday present :)

He speaks almost absentmindedly at first, so quiet it takes everyone a moment to realize he has started and turn their attention back to the teen. 

“Everything was fine until the start of senior year.” Stiles pauses and then scoffs, never lifting his head from his contemplation of his feet. “That is, nothing attacked us, no one died, you know anything of that sort. I think I already knew it was all for nothing though. The idea of senior year terrified me. The fact that at the end of the year everyone was expected to go separate ways…. I had a hard time making and keeping the friends I had - how the hell was I supposed to make new ones? I became obsessed with planning the next step in our lives - where we’d go to school, where we would live, everything.” A bitter laugh escapes Stiles as his grip on his mug tightens to the point of creaking. Bucky carefully pulls the mug free and replaces it with his metal hand. Stiles doesn’t even seem to register the change as he continues. 

 

“All the planning ended up useless didn’t it? Probably would have been for nothing regardless. They were probably just humoring me. Right before school starts the seniors have this tradition of going to the library and putting our initials on a shelf - a way of making your mark on the school. They have done it for decades. That night was one struggle after another on our way to get to the school. And once we did? Some… thing attacked Scott.”

“Something?” Clint asks quietly. Stiles nods.

“At first we thought he was just a werewolf, but he had these glowing talons instead of claws. He tried to use them to… I don’t know suck the alpha out of Scott. Someone else showed up to help in the middle of the fight - another werewolf. It was this kid Scott and I used to know named Theo Raeken.” Stiles practically spits the name, and Phil feels the tension in the room eek upward in response. 

“Theo had moved away in fourth grade. He said he had heard about Scott being an alpha and had come back to try and join the pack.”

“You didn’t believe him?” Steve questions, catching Stiles’s tone. 

Stiles gives another of those horrible, bitter laughs. “I didn’t even believe he was really Theo at first. Something about him made me … uncomfortable.”

“You have always had good instincts.” Phil remarks, studying Stiles.

“You are the only one who thinks so. I tried to talk to dad about it. He told me to stop bothering him. I just wanted him to run a background check on the Raekens and he refused…. So I got Parrish to do it.”

“Did he find anything?” Tony asks, not looking up from his phone. Phil was sure they would have a much more thorough background in just a few minutes courtesy of JARVIS.

“A speeding ticket signed by Theo’s dad.” Stiles answers, finally looking up from the floor. Phil almost wishes he hadn’t when he catches the bleakness in Stiles’s eyes. “That’s it. I convinced Scott that we needed to hear Theo’s story - make sure it checked out. His story was good.” Stiles pulls a face. “It was too good. Like it was designed. Enough like Scott’s to get his sympathy, fairly vague but what details he gave were things we would know - things like his alpha being killed by twins from his pack.”

“You think he lied about the whole thing.” Natasha says, eyes narrowed.

Stiles glances at her as he nods. “Theo could tell that I wasn’t buying it. He told Scott some story about fourth grade to prove he was who he said he was. Scott bought it completely. Said we should give him the benefit of the doubt. I… well I didn’t agree. I broke into the administration office and stole Theo’s transfer form. The signature on the form didn’t match the one on the speeding ticket. I tried to show everyone but they thought I was crazy, grasping at straws. But I swear the handwriting was different! There were so many differences down to the undulations of the sinuous stroke!”

“Hey, hey, shhh, Stiles we believe you.” Bucky assures him, catching Stiles’s flailing hands and bringing them down in front of them. Stiles studies him for a moment before slumping.

“No one else did.” He whispers. “I managed to convince Liam to help me follow Theo and see if we could catch him doing something. We followed him out into the woods.” Stiles winces. “Theo was laying flowers at the site where his sister had died from exposure back when we were 8. I tried to leave before he saw us, but we didn’t make it. Theo tried to convince me that all he wanted was a pack like the one we had. When we got back to my jeep Scott was waiting for us.” Stiles sighs and hangs his head. “We fought. Scott accused me of never trusting anyone. I never wanted to be that person.” His voice is pleading. “But Scott trusts everyone! Even when they have proved over and over again that they aren’t worth trusting. Scott believes that everyone has good inside them and that if we give them the chance they will choose to act on the good. But that’s not the way the world works! The world is not perfect or black and white! People live in shades of grey… and if Scott refused to open his eyes to that then I would just have to watch out for all of us.” Stiles’s voice had been steadily rising as he talked, until he is nearly shouting at the end. He falls silent, panting. 

Phil leans forward to catch Stiles’s eye. He holds it as he says firmly, “You are right, Stiles. People do bad things all the time. Even if everyone has the potential for good, there are plenty of people turn the other way regardless of the opportunities provided to them. You have been hurt over and over even by those who proclaim themselves the vanguard for good. It is not surprising that you have a realistic view of the world. You are not jaded though. You said you never wanted to be the person that couldn’t trust anyone, but you aren’t. Just look around this room for proof. You trusted me before you came, and you have allowed yourself to trust everyone else haven’t you?”

Stiles stares at him for a moment, eyes filling with tears, before he glances at the faces surrounding him. He finishes on Clint and something passes between the two before Stiles’s face crumples completely. Clint leans forward to catch him as the rest of his body follows suit. Stiles is gasping something too low for Phil to hear, but judging by the looks on Clint, Steve and Bucky’s faces, that is likely a good thing. Clint begins murmuring back, and Stiles slowly calms down. As he quiets, Phil catches a snippet of what Clint is saying - “...safe here, don’t have to hold it all on your own anymore. We will help keep the bad guys away…” - and barely manages to contain himself to a twitch of the hand. He will most definitely be having words with Noah later. 

Steve passes down a box of kleenex and Stiles mops at his face before sighing. “Scott and I were at the station the next day. Dad was going on a date.” A strange look passes over his face. “He was really nervous so I was joking to try and get him to relax. Scott said something nice and Dad said he was the son he should have had.” 

Oh yeah, that talk with Noah is just getting longer, Phil decides.

“Dad wouldn’t tell me who the date was with - said it was none of my business. I still don’t understand,” Stiles says hesitantly, darting a glance at Phil. “How was that none of my business?”

Phil decides then and there that his talk is going to be much more physical than verbal. Forcing back his anger, he answers his nephew’s confused question. “It was your business Stiles. Anything like that affects you greatly as well, and your dad should never have left you in the dark.”

Stiles nods slowly. “Anyway while we were there they were moving this prisoner - Donovan Donati. He had a history with my dad and he threatened to kill my dad and tried to attack him as they were moving him out. The transport got attacked en route. Lydia, Malia and Kira found it and called it in. The officers were wounded, Donovan’s lawyer was dead and Donovan was missing. Dad called in Scott to see if he could find him. He did and it turns out that they were attacked by Tracey Stewart - the lawyer’s daughter. I guess she had been having issues with night terrors - Lydia, Mrs. Martin and Parrish had been trying to help her with them. Tracey showed up in school the next day. She was freaking out and then passed out and started leaking mercury. We took her to Deaton, but even he was confused. And then we realized that she was a mix as well, werewolf and kanima. She ended up paralyzing all of us and then escaping past the mountain ash barrier we had up.”

Thor’s head snaps up. “She should not have been able to clear the line. No creature as such should be able to.”

“Yeah we had the same problem big guy. Didn’t change the fact that she had. Lydia and Kira had gone to Tracey’s house to see if they could figure out why she was doing all this. They realized she was going after people who had been helping her and there was another person who fit that bill - Lydia’s mom… who was apparently the one going on the date with my dad. They went to the station to try and stop it, but they were too late. Tracey paralyzed my dad and stabbed Lydia before Kira managed to cut off her tail. Malia recovered first from the venom and got to the station in time to save Mrs. Martin. But Malia and Tracey got attacked by these three people in masks. They killed Tracey and then just walked away.”

“They didn’t do anything to Malia?” Pepper asks in surprise. Stiles shakes his head.

“Other than terrifying her? Nope. Deaton wanted to take Tracey’s body because she wasn’t turning back… little hard to explain the claws and severed tail. Dad freaked out. Said there was a line we couldn’t cross, that it was a crime scene and we couldn’t tamper with the evidence. Deaton managed to convince him, but he was furious.” 

Stiles stops and seems to get lost in thought for a moment before shaking himself back. “But we managed to figure out something. The multiple creature types in one person, being able to cross mountain ash, the three people who killed Tracey but left everyone else alone? We figured out that they were experimenting. They were creating chimeras using science. That is why Tracey could cross the mountain ash - she wasn’t actually a supernatural.”

“Oh my god.” Bruce mutters, looking faintly ill. 

“Yeah.” Stiles agrees. “It was pretty sick. We split up after that. Malia and I were at the library trying to research chimeras and see if we could learn anything that might help. I fell asleep and….” Stiles stops and shudders before picking up in a new place. “The others found a new chimera. He had attacked this kid Corey and then almost got Liam’s best friend Mason before they found him. They fought him off, but then Kira nearly killed him. Only Scott grabbing her at the last second stopped her. It didn’t matter though because the three people showed up again and killed the guy before disappearing. Malia left me at the library after I fell asleep and went back to Tracey’s house. She found a book there called the Dread Doctors. The picture on the cover was the same three people who were showing up everywhere and the description sounded ominously like what was happening with the chimeras.” 

Stiles stops again and his expression breaks Phil’s heart. Stiles reaches up to grip his shoulder and hunches in on himself, gaze going far away yet again. After several minutes, Bucky gently lays a hand on the one Stiles has on his own shoulder. Stiles jumps and turns startled eyes on the soldier. “What happened after you fell asleep at the library, Stiles?” Bucky asks carefully. 

Stiles shudders and tries to look away, but Bucky lifts his other hand to keep Stiles’s face turned toward him. “Hey now, none of that. Whatever it is, it won’t change anything.” 

Tear filled eyes study Bucky as Stiles sucks in rapid gasps. “You don’t know that.” He finally breathes.

“I do.” Bucky disagrees firmly. “Just talk to me kid. I promise it will be alright.” 

Stiles studies him for another moment and Phil can see the moment he decides to trust them with whatever is coming next. He wishes it was more joyful, but he can also see Stiles once again bracing himself for rejection. 

“I woke up alone, went to leave, and the jeep wouldn’t start. I got out to try and fix it. While I was looking under the hood….” Stiles swallows thickly and his grip on his shoulder spasms. “Suddenly it was just pain. So much pain on my shoulder.” 

Bucky gently loosens the now bruising grip Stiles has on his shoulder and Steve pulls Stiles’s shirt aside to reveal a deep, pucked, almost star shaped scar. Clint hisses in sympathy. Stiles twitches but doesn’t break eye contact with Bucky. 

“He started choking me from behind. I pulled the thing off my shoulder - it was a hand, but there was this … mouth in the middle of it. He was trying to kill me. I - I managed to head butt him into letting me go and then grabbed the wrench I had been using in the jeep. I didn’t think I just - I - when he came at me again I hit him in the head with the wrench and ran. I looked back and it was Donovan. I just ran. But-but he came after me. I ended up back in the library - I thought he wouldn’t be able to get in you know? Cause- cause the library is locked after hours and he didn’t have a keycard to get in. But he got in somehow.” Stiles’s voice cracks, and Bucky tightens his grip. 

“I hid.” Stiles admits quietly. “I was so scared. Donovan started saying all these things about my dad to try to get me to react, but I just stayed quiet and hid. But- but he found me. I don’t - don’t understand how. I thought he went upstairs, saw the feet going up but he grabbed me through the shelf, pulled me through.” 

Stiles is beginning to hyperventilate, talking faster and faster. Phil starts to lean forward to interrupt and try to calm him down, but Sam grabs him from behind. When he looks up, Steve shakes his head and tilts his head at Bucky. The soldier has a careful grip on Phil’s nephew, gentling him with grounding touches without ever breaking eye contact. Sam leans forward and breathes, “If you stop him, he might never get going again. He needs to get this out Phil. I think this is the crux of it. The thing he is most afraid of telling us. Bucky knows how that goes. He will get Stiles through this and then we can work on putting him back together.”

Phil feels like he will shatter under the pressure of holding himself back from comforting Stiles, but he knows Sam and Steve are right. He twists his fingers together in an attempt to contain himself and gives a small nod to acknowledge the others. 

Stiles continues, unaware of the byplay. “I managed to get a good hit in and break away but he just kept coming at me! I tried - they were doing construction so there was this scaffolding, thought if I could get up I could get away maybe but he grabbed me, tried to pull me down. Said he was going to eat my legs. I didn’t want to die, I was so scared and I saw this pin on the scaffolding, thought if I pulled it maybe it could be a distraction or something, I never meant…. A bunch of stuff came down and one of the bracers… it went right through him. I killed him, I killed Donovan, I did, I killed him….” 

Phil closes his eyes in grief for Stiles. He hears rustling and then the sound of Stiles’s continuing chant is muffled by what he assumes is Bucky’s chest. A steadying hand lands on his shoulder and Phil leans into the grounding presence gratefully before opening his eyes. Sure enough, Stiles is burrowed into Bucky, looking like he is trying to disappear into the soldier entirely. Bucky is gazing down at him, heartbreak clear in his eyes. Steve has one hand running through Bucky’s hair while the other is pressed to his eyes. Clint has his head bowed, but is smoothing a hand down what parts of Stiles he can reach. 

The others are equally as distraught. Tears run down Pepper’s cheeks and under the hand she has pressed to her mouth. Her other hand is clamped around Tony’s, who for once is not looking at any tech and is instead staring helplessly at the hysterical teen in mute horror. Natasha has the blank expression that comes from her shutting down her emotions completely, and Phil makes a note to have someone check in on her once this is all over. Thor and Bruce are both watching the huddle on the floor with sorrow and pain reflected in their expressions. 

Phil takes a deep breath and then pushes himself to his knees so he can lean over and put his lips to Stiles’s ear. “Hush now, it’s okay, everything will be alright. You didn’t have a choice, Stiles, it was self-defense. None of us are going to judge you or hate you or whatever it is you are afraid of, okay? I promise you Stiles.” 

Phil huffs in surprise when Stiles suddenly squirms around and grabs onto him. Only Bucky and Clint’s quick grabs stop him from falling headfirst into Bucky. Nodding his thanks, Phil wraps his nephew in his arms and pulls him up so Phil can sink into a seated position up against the couch between Clint and Bucky. He then focuses on calming his distraught nephew, reiterating reassurances that Stiles is safe and loved. Stiles eventually quiets and Phil thinks he is asleep before he hears a murmured, “I called 911. Panicked though and left without saying anything. But by the time they got there the body was gone. So was the blood and the mess. I thought I was going crazy, but I still had blood on my hands and the bite on my shoulder.” 

Stiles’s voice should be too low to hear, but the room has gone deathly silent in the way only trained operatives have. “I didn’t tell anyone.” He admits. “Scott called me not long after to tell me that someone was stealing the bodies of the chimeras, so at least I knew I wasn’t crazy. The others were focused on the book Malia had found. There was a connection they found to Dr. Valack.”

Stiles’s voice is flat and he sounds like he is reciting the bare facts instead of the story he had been telling earlier. “We knew he was in Eichen House, so Scott, Kira, Lydia and I went to go talk to him.” Phil barely contains a flinch at the thought of his nephew returning to that insane place. Stiles doesn’t notice, just turns his face further into Phil’s neck and continues. “Kira and Scott couldn’t go onto the supernatural floor so Lydia and I went. Dr. Valack wrote the book. I guess the Dread Doctors could make you forget you had seen them so the book was a way to make you remember if you had. He told us to read the book, but then the Dread Doctors managed to break in. They did something to Valack but left everyone else alone. We decided we should read the book, try to trigger any memories we had of the Dread Doctors. It didn’t work that way though.”

Finally Stiles loses the lifeless tone, but Phil nearly regrets that when he hears the sadness that replaces it. “We all got memories triggered all right, but they were not of the doctors. I was at the hospital with Lydia when mine happened. I remembered one night when my mom was sick and she had escaped to the roof. My dad found her up there and she was ranting about how I was trying to kill her, that I was a monster. I had followed my dad up and when she saw me she attacked me. I guess I had followed the path of the memory while I was in it because I woke up on the roof being attacked by another chimera. Theo showed up and ended up killing it.”

Agitation starts to replace the sadness as Stiles begins clenching and unclenching his fists in Phil’s shirt. “He blackmailed me into staying quiet. Said I couldn’t say anything because he didn’t say anything about Donovan. That he was there that night and saw it. I - I was confused. I agreed to keep quiet and we took the body to Deaton’s.” Phil can feel his own fury reflected in the nearly subvocal growls coming from Bucky and the way Clint is practically vibrating on his other side. “Scott assumed one of the Dread Doctors had killed the chimera and we let him.” Shame is beginning to edge into Stile’s tone. “We decided to set a watch on the body to see if we could catch whoever was stealing them. I didn’t trust Theo, so I decided to watch with him. I set my phone to record and we watched the footage from my watch in the jeep. He started talking to me.”

Stiles pushes impossibly closer and reaches out to grab ahold of Bucky. His voice is louder now but the tortured confusion evident in it is painful to hear. “He asked what the punishment was for killing a chimera and I told him that mine was that I’d lose Scott. Theo said that if Scott gave up on me for that then he didn’t deserve his alpha power. That justifiable homicide was a thing. That both our murders were self defense. We started arguing and he kept saying that I wasn’t to blame.”

Phil’s heart clenches as he realizes Stiles’s dilemma. The kid Stiles was convinced was a bad guy, one who was up to something nefarious, was the only one who was arguing that Stiles wasn’t to blame for what had been a clear cut case of self defense. If Theo was justifying it, didn’t that make it worse? 

“Did you know that the worst kinds of monsters - both human and I would assume supernatural - use the truth as a weapon?” Phil remarks calmly. Stiles freezes and then pulls back to peer up at Phil uncertainly. “They twist it to make people feel a certain way. Theo used it to try and get you on his side. That does not, however, make it any less the truth. From what you told us it was undeniably self defense. You were just trying to survive, Stiles. Donovan wouldn’t have stopped until you and your dad were dead.”

“I was glad when I realized he was dying.” Stiles admits, voice wavering.

“Were you happy that you killed him or relieved that he could no longer hurt you?” Phil asks without missing a beat.

A faint bit of hope dawns in Stiles’s eyes. “Relieved. I was safe and so was dad.” 

“There is nothing wrong with that Stiles. Anyone would have felt the same. And you are clearly remorseful about the way it happened. You are not a monster Stiles.”

Stiles blinks rapidly and his breath hitches, but he manages to avoid another breakdown. “You don’t want me to go away?”

“Never.” Phil replies firmly. Stiles shudders and turns questioning eyes on Bucky. 

“Not a chance, kid.” The solider agrees. The others all add their heartfelt agreements. Phil thanks every deity he can for his team as he watches the last of Stiles’s defenses fall. His nephew curls into him again, shaking with the force of his relief, but his voice is stronger as he continues.

“Theo and I got attacked as we were watching the body. Someone on fire punched Theo and pulled him from the jeep before flipping it over with me inside. Theo pulled me out and put out the fire, but the guy had already taken the body and left. That’s when we heard it over the radio…” Stiles clears his throat. “I guess Dad was tired of covering up. Melissa had come home to find another chimera with Kira’s sword in her. She called Dad. He - he called it in and put out a warrant for Kira’s arrest.” 

Phil doesn’t manage to contain his wince this time. He knew Noah hadn’t know about Donovan, but that move had only put more weight onto Stiles. One thing Phil was sure of after all his years at SHIELD, sometimes justice had to come from outside the law. Stiles’s next words made Phil feel slightly better about the other adults in Beacon Hills.

“Kira’s parents called Dad on it. Mr. Yukimura confessed - said it was his sword. That the girl had come after him and he had stabbed her in self defense. They practically dared Dad to say something to the contrary. Then when Melissa was required to give her statement she wrote it down completely accurately - werewolves and chimeras and all.” 

Clint barks a startled laugh at the audacity of Melissa and Phil feels his lips twitch up at the answering smile on Stiles’s face. The amusement quickly fades from Stiles, however. “The Dread Doctors had taken Liam and his sort of girlfriend Hayden, who was another chimera. We had discovered another chimera - Corey, the kid who got attacked? - and were having him read the book to try and trigger his memories of where he had been taken. Scott decided that was taking too long and used his claws instead. Scott, Malia and Mason went after them while Theo and Lydia stayed with Corey and I went to the hospital to find Dad. They were trying to guard the latest body, but didn’t know how powerful the body snatcher was, so I had to warn him. I wanted to go help Scott as well, but he wouldn’t wait for me. Said he had to find Liam now. It ended up being Theo and Lydia that found him and Hayden though, cause Corey remembered something else later. And I discovered that it was Parrish that was stealing the bodies, even if he didn’t remember.”

“Theo started trying to convince me that we should tell Scott about the murders. That he wouldn’t blame us for defending ourselves. I wasn’t sure that was true. Before we could do anything about it though, Corey and Hayden started to get really sick. They were bleeding mercury, like the other chimeras had done when they died. Corey died before we could get to him, and the Dread Doctors injected Hayden. They were taking her to the clinic and I was going to meet them there.”

Stiles trails off before pushing himself out of Phil’s hold and standing. Clint starts to follow, but Phil lays a hand on his arm and stops him. He can see the agitation in Stiles. His nephew is not going anywhere but clearly needs the movement. Sure enough, once Stiles is pacing, the words start pouring forth faster than before. 

“I showed up at the clinic and Scott was waiting outside for me. He - he pulled out my wrench, the one I had hit Donovan with. Scott started asking why I hadn’t told him. And then he started in on me, going on and on about how I killed him and how I shouldn’t have killed him. We started arguing. I just wanted him to listen to me! I couldn’t make him understand that I don’t have any superpowers like he does, that I am just human and I wasn’t going to stand by and let that monster kill me or my dad! He was saying that it wasn’t even self defense at that point. He just wouldn’t listen.”

Stiles pacing is becoming spastic with the force of his agitation. His arms are flailing as he continues to tell of how badly his best friend failed him. “How dare he!” Stiles screeches. “When the body was found with Kira’s sword through her fucking chest, Scott was trying to find a way to get her out of trouble! But one wrench with some blood and he condemns me as the basest of criminals! And then, when he couldn’t find Liam he mind raped a kid!! Mr. True Alpha, beacon of all that is good and light, forced his way into some poor kid’s head and rifled through his memories without a single by-your-leave. And I am the one in the wrong?! What gives him the right to judge me? He could have killed Corey, not to mention left him brain dead or catatonic or any number of other horrible things… and that’s if Corey had let him in willingly. By forcing his way in he nearly guaranteed something would happen! It was sheer luck it didn’t and guess what? It didn’t matter anyway - he didn’t find Liam off the memories. And for that matter why was he willing to risk something like that for Liam and Hayden but when I was being TORTURED by a madman he was fucking working with the psychopath?!” 

Stiles gives a scream of pure rage before dropping to his knees in the middle of the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. The next words come out as a sob. “You know what happened when I pleaded for forgiveness? For a way to fix it? Scott kicked me out of the pack. Told me to go turn myself into my dad instead. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t have Dad turn on me, not again. So I ran. Just got in the jeep and drove. And when the jeep gave out, I walked. For over a month I just walked. Got to New York and realized I was coming here. I was so terrified that you would turn away too. For days I debated coming or not. But I knew if I didn’t come here I would be dead soon. And I don’t want to die, Uncle Phil. I am so tired of hurting. So tired of being alone and scared. Why am I never good enough for anyone? Why can’t someone want me?”

That is the tipping point for Phil. He darts forward and curls around his crumpled nephew. “I will always want you. Nothing could ever change that.”

“We want you, kid.” Bucky corrects, having come up on the other side. “And trust me when I say we will fight for you.” Bucky places a hand on Phil’s arm and when Phil looks at him, mouths ‘Guardian’. Phil debates the matter for less than a second before nodding firmly. He holds a hand out and gestures for Tony’s tablet. A quick glance shows that JARVIS has already pulled up the documents. 

“Stiles.” Phil says quietly, more nervous than he anticipated. Clint scoots closer and wraps himself around both Phil and Stiles. Bucky leans back to give them a moment. “Stiles, look at me.” Phil encourages, when Stiles stays curled up. Stiles slowly raises his eyes to warily look at Phil and Clint. Phil smiles faintly and hands him the tablet. “Do you know what these mean?”

Stiles scans the tablet for a moment before his eyes widen and his mouth drops. “Guardianship?” He squeaks. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I know when we talked earlier you were adamant that you didn’t want to have to go back to Beacon Hills. I told you that your Dad would have to fight to take you away from me. I meant it Stiles. I got him to make me your legal guardian. I can protect you this way and I -”

That is all he gets out before Stiles throws his arms around his neck. “You mean it?” Stiles sobs quietly. “Even now that you know?” 

Phil crushes Stiles to his chest in response. “Even more now. You are never going back there, Stiles. Those people don’t deserve you. You deserve so much better than the lot you have been given. You will get better. I will make sure of it. You’re ours now, and we look out for our own. I am so sorry I didn’t come for you sooner.”

“You’re here now. It’s more than I could ask for.” Stiles chokes before giving in and breaking down for what Phil hopes is the last time today. At least this time it seems like a good thing - a release of the tension Stiles has been carrying, relief at having all the secrets out, and utter joy at being accepted anyway. Phil doesn’t try to calm him, instead letting Stiles excise all the negative emotions he was forced to dredge up today. He just holds Stiles, letting him know he is no longer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think :)
> 
> I have already started the next chapter so hopefully it won't take long for me to get it out.


	18. You're Gonna Make It Through Another Night

Stiles eventually cries himself out. Clint is surprised by how long it takes. He expected Stiles to pass out from sheer exhaustion ages ago. Phil glances down when Stiles stirs against him. “Do you need anything, Stiles?” He asks quietly.

“‘M tired, Uncle Phil.” Comes the sleepy reply.

Clint chuckles. “I’d imagine so.” He reaches over to run a hand through Stiles’s head, and tries not to show how his heart clenches when Stiles presses into the touch. How could a kid that has been hurt so many times be so trusting? Lord knew how long it had taken most of the team to get used to casual touches. And here was this tough as nails teenager who had faced more than someone four times his age ever should, who soaked up attention like a flower starving for sunlight. 

Even more concerning were the ones who had let him get this way. Why were they unable to see the beauty of Stiles’s loyalty? Even Stiles’s self-deprecating retelling of the story proved he was brilliant, loyal and clever. How could they have taken that for granted? One thing was certain - the Avengers would never make that mistake. And heaven help anyone from Beacon Hills that crossed their path.

“Do you want to go to bed or would you rather stay here on the couch?” Phil asks Stiles, who blinks slowly before answering. 

“Bed.”

“Want someone to go with you?” Clint asks.

“Um…” Stiles stalls, clearly wanting it but afraid to ask and potentially burden someone.

Bucky huffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll take him.” He says, standing and making his way over to where Phil, Clint and Stiles are tangled. He quirks an eyebrow at Clint and then tilts his head toward Phil and then the others. Taking a moment to really look at his partner, Clint can see what Bucky had caught. Phil is practically shaking with emotion. He needed time to decompress before he could focus on anything. Phil was probably holding himself together on sheer willpower alone right now. A quick glance at the rest of the team shows similar, though less extreme, states. Clint nods at Bucky and moves to give him space. 

Bucky kneels down and gathers Stiles into his arms. “I c’n walk.” Stiles protests weakly. 

Bucky snorts. “You are mostly asleep right now. You’d fall asleep standing up if I let you.”

Stiles’s half-hearted comeback is cut off by the elevator doors closing. As soon as Stiles is out of sight, Phil goes deathly still. Clint turns to look at him fully. “Phil?” He asks warily.

“I am going to kill them.” Phil replies in a perfectly calm, level, professional tone that has all of Clint’s hackles rising. 

“Not if I get there first.” Natasha disagrees in nearly the same voice.

“Whoa,” Sam says slowly, rising to his feet and gesturing peacefully. “I think we all need to take a moment here.” 

“I think too many people have spent too much time ignoring Stiles’s needs.” Tony growls. It appears that Pepper’s bruising grip on his wrists is the only thing keeping him from calling the suit.

“That is enough!” Steve snaps, pulling himself to his impressive height. “Are you really using ignoring Stiles’s needs as an excuse to ignore them now? Shame on you Tony. Nat…. well honestly I expected nothing less. But Phil? Stiles needs you. He needs you here, focused on him. Actually he needs all of us doing that. That kid has been through hell. It is up to us to help him recover.”

Steve’s words seem to snap most of the others from their revenge driven mindsets, but Phil is glaring mulishly at Steve. “Phil,” Clint says quietly, reaching out to pull Phil’s face toward him. “How do you think Stiles would feel if you killed the people he has given so much of himself to protect?”

Phil’s eyes widen alarmingly and then he slumps, all the fight going out of him. “I can’t just sit back and do nothing.” He protests. 

“No one is asking you to do that.” Sam argues firmly. “We are just telling you - all of you,” he adds with a no- nonsense look at the rest of the team, “to stop thinking with your anger. You can’t go kill a bunch of teenagers. That won’t help anything.”

“So… no killing… but can we still hurt them?” Tony asks, an evil glint in his eye. 

Sam lifts a hand and drags it down his face. “No one can do anything for at least a week. That should give everyone a chance to cool off and really consider your actions. And no one goes near Beacon Hills for at least a month. If you decide to go after that - you have to tell Stiles first.”

“You aren’t in charge of me.” Tony points out.

“No but Phil and I are. And Pepper might as well be. I think Sam’s restrictions are good. Phil? Pepper?” Steve interjects.

Pepper nods. Phil sighs but agrees as well. “As much as I want to hunt my brother down and give him a piece of my mind I can see the wisdom in Sam’s plan. Let’s give it a week. Focus on Stiles. Worry about revenge later.”

Clint tries not to slump with relief. He is only partially successful by the look Phil gives him. Clint shrugs. 

“Why don’t we order some pizza and talk some things over? No one should go to bed right now considering how wound up we all are.” Clint proposes. A scatter of nods is his answer, and Clint asks JARVIS to order their usual. 

There is silence for a few minutes after that until Tony speaks up. “The note. Stiles didn’t say anything about the note.”

“What note?” Sam asks.

Phil straightens in his seat. “You’re right.”

“Maybe he forgot?” Clint adds.

“He said he left right after the confrontation with Scott. It makes no sense that he would write the note and bring it to Scott after that. Not to mention everything else he said. It doesn’t fit.” Tony argues. 

“Uh, guys? Seriously, what note?” Sam interrupts.

“When I called Noah to ask him why he hadn’t called to tell me about Stiles, he told us that two days after Stiles ran away Scott came to him. Gave him a letter that Stiles had asked Scott to deliver.” Phil takes a breath. “It was a suicide note.” 

A cacophony of sound follows that announcement. Once everyone calms down, Sam speaks up. “Tony is right - that doesn’t follow the story, and I am inclined to believe Stiles here. Especially over Scott.”

“I agree.” Phil says slowly. “I was already on the fence about the note before Stiles’s story. Too many things didn’t make sense. But what explanation is there for it?” 

“My money is on that Theo character.” Clint puts in. “Stiles’s instincts are good. He is a smart kid, with a detective’s mind. I doubt he is misguided on this.”

Steve nods. “Something about him struck a bad chord with me as well. It is too bad we can’t get a read on him ourselves. I bet he wouldn’t last long against Natasha.” Nat gives an evil smirk at that. Steve rolls his eyes and continues. “I wonder if we could get a copy of that note. Might help us get a better handle on it. And we know Stiles fairly well - if it is not written by him it should be easy enough to tell.”

“Unless Theo is as good as he seems to be. He tricked everyone but Stiles. A group of kids that, no matter how idealistic their leader, are wise to the way of the world. Lydia is as intelligent as Stiles, if not more so, and Malia is as distrustful as Nat. If Stiles is right and he is truly untrustworthy, he managed to trick those two.” Pepper offers. It’s times like these that Clint is forcibly reminded of just why she is the CEO of Stark Industries. 

“I don’t want to ask Stiles about it right now - let him recover from today first.” Phil puts in firmly. “However, I did ask Noah to send me a copy of the note. It came over with the guardianship papers. I haven’t yet looked at it. I wanted to wait to hear what Stiles has to say. Now though… JARVIS, would you pull up a copy?” 

If you will direct yourselves to the living room screen, I have projected a copy there.” JARVIS replies, voice sounding slightly off. Tony catches it too, if the furrow in his brow is any indication. 

In the corner of the screen is a clearly copied scan of a note. JARVIS had isolated the text and displayed it on the middle of the screen for easier reading. Clint’s heart clenched at the words.

 

__

_Dad,_

_I messed up. That night when you got a ‘prank call’ from the_

_high school library? It wasn’t a prank call. It was me. I killed him,_

_Dad. He was coming after me and then he was going after you._

_I couldn’t let that happen. But then something happened. At first_

_I just wanted him to stop, but then… it felt good. I felt powerful._

_I never feel that way. Not with the people around me all the time._

_Instead of just knocking him out I kept hitting him, over and over_

_and over. It felt good. And I know it’s not. I let myself become a_

_MONSTER. I am just like those things we hunt. So now. Well_

_now I have to take the monster out. Just like always. That I am_

_the monster this time just makes it easier. No one else has to be_

_involved. I can take care of this myself. Don’t look for me, dad._

_None of this was your fault. I love you. I am sorry. I am so so_

_sorry dad. Please forgive me. Goodbye._

_Stiles_

____

____

“Guess that answers that.” Tony muttered. “That’s not the way the kid said it went down. Not to us. And he - no way was he lying to us. I highly doubt he would lie in an apparent suicide note to his dad either, so my money is on that Theo guy.”

“Agreed.” Steve nods. “We already know Theo knows what happened. Scott’s reaction, as wrong as he was, would make more sense if this is the version of events he was told.”

Phil runs an agitated hand through his hair and Clint slides closer to wrap himself around his partner’s back. Phil leans against him subtly and thinks aloud, “Why would he lie though? What exactly does Theo gain from all this?”

“I think in order to understand that we need to know what has been going on in Beacon Hills since Stiles left.” Nat’s grin is more predatory than cheerful. 

Steve shakes his head helplessly. “As much as I hate to admit it, she has a point. I still think we need to cool off before making any decisions, but maybe we should think about sending someone to Beacon Hills to make some inquiries.”

“We will discuss this more tomorrow.” Sam interjects firmly. “We are supposed to be winding down, remember? JARVIS what is our ETA for that pizza?”

“It just arrived in the lobby. Shall I have it sent up?” The AI responds immediately.

“Nah,” Sam shrugs. “I’ll go grab it. Bruce you wanna give me a hand? Everyone else - get drinks, set the table, do not leave this floor.” Sam glares at Tony and Nat in particular with that last statement before he and Bruce head out.

Clint gives Phil a squeeze and then releases him so they can go set the table. They have just finished herding the others to various seats around the table when Sam and Bruce return. Between Pepper, Sam and Clint, they keep the conversation over dinner light and nowhere near anything to do with Stiles, Beacon Hills or werewolves. By the time they finish, everyone has relaxed somewhat. Enough that Clint feels secure in loading up a plate of pizza for Bucky before hauling Phil up to their floor. 

“Go get ready for bed.” He instructs softly when the doors open on their floor. “I’ll check on Bucky and Stiles and then be right in.”

Phil sighs and nods before leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Clint’s lips. “Thank you.” He breathes before heading in the direction of their bedroom. 

Clint stops in the kitchen to grab a beer before making his way to Stiles’s room. He nudges the door open to see Bucky propped against the headboard as Stiles nestles in his lap. Bucky huffs a silent laugh at Clint’s raised eyebrow. 

“He wouldn’t settle.” He murmurs quietly enough that Clint mostly just reads his lips. Clint nods though and hands him the plate. He opens the beer and sets it on the nightstand before saluting and smirking. Bucky makes a rude gesture around his pizza and Clint’s smirk turns into a grin. 

“Thank you.” He whispers and Bucky nods. Clint carefully closes the door and then heads to his and Phil’s room. Phil is curled into a tight ball in the middle of the bed already. Clint strips on his way to the bed and doesn’t bother with anything else before crawling in behind Phil. He wraps himself around his partner and waits. Sure enough, only a moment passes before Phil unfurls enough to turn and wrap himself around Clint, who merely tightens his hold once Phil settles. 

They don’t say anything, just lay there and comfort each other until eventually Phil’s breathes even into sleep. Only then does Clint allow himself to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We reach the note!
> 
> I know a lot of folks were hoping to see a Beacon Hills beat down, but unfortunately not quite there yet haha. Got some more Stiles fluff that needs to happen first. But never fear, they are going to get what's coming to them ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit on [ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/captaindean13) :)


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